


Bedtime Story

by 29PiecesOfMe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Adventure, Angels and Demons, Angst, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Meg, Brotherly feels, Captured Castiel, Castiel in Hell, Castiel is a Sweetheart, Crazy Castiel, Degradation, Evil Crowley, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Healing, Hell, Humor, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Meg, Hurt/Comfort, Meg to the Rescue, Megstiel - Freeform, Pet Castiel, Prisoners, Purgatory, Romance, Sam to the Rescue, Threats of torture, Tortured Castiel, Whump, captured dean, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29PiecesOfMe/pseuds/29PiecesOfMe
Summary: After Dean and Cas get back from Purgatory, Crowley decides it's time to make his move against the angel that double crossed him. What leads them into Hell and being trapped by the vengeful King? Who will be their knight in shining armor? Maybe a demon whose thorny heart has fallen for a unicorn. Here is their story... Megstiel AU





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> HI, GUYS! :D I know it's been a while, but I'm still here, hahaha. I'm so excited to have a fun new story to share with you!
> 
> So this fic is dedicated to hengrimm, who asked if I would write a Megstiel story. As much as I enjoyed the last episode with Meg and Cas, I'd never really explored the Megstiel aspect much, so this was a lot of fun to play with (and now I'm actually much more a fan of it than I used to be, hah!). Hengrimm, I hope this was everything you dreamed it would be! :D
> 
> The main story for this fic is set after Purgatory, though some scenes will take us back to the Crazy!Cas era or Purgatory itself to reveal pieces of backstory. The timeline will hop around a little bit, but at least that means you get dumped right into the action! In this AU, Meg wasn't taken by Crowley after killing the Leviathan. Other aspects are different, too, but you'll find those as you go. ;) Though I will say I'm sorry to Crowley, LOL... I LOVE him as a good-ish guy, but for this story I needed him to be the complete villain. No frenemies here, alas.
> 
> Thanks so much to Aini NuFire for continuing to be a fantastic beta reader and writing partner. ^_^
> 
> I don't own any Supernatural characters. Stay tuned for updates on Tuesdays and Fridays!

Castiel yanked and fought against the merciless hands forcing him along. Though one of the demons had taken his angle blade, the warrior was hardly defenseless without it. He bared his teeth, catching the eye of one victorious demon and snarling so ferociously that its smug grin faltered. The evil tang of sulfur in the air burned his eyes and throat. Hell was never a pleasant place to be, but the angel had a deeper appreciation for its horrors after having lived with Sam's Cage scars for a time.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed from nearby. "Let go of me! Get off!"

If only he could get loose enough to spread his wings, Castiel thought in frustration. He could grab Dean and run for it. Even though they were outnumbered a hundred to two, there was no way the demons could ever hope to keep up with him.

It was no use, though. The mob hemmed him in too tightly, a dozen demons manhandling the angel towards the front of the brimstone chamber. Dean was even less likely to break free, the strength of his human body easily overpowered by the horde. Castiel chanced a look over his shoulder when the hunter yelled again, only to find his friend had been hoisted off the ground completely as his legs were held aloft by two more of the brutes for easier carrying.

"Put him down!" Castiel growled, lurching towards the group, but unable to reach Dean when one of the demons jabbed the confiscated angel blade at him. They ignored his demand, hauling him the rest of the way up to the throne situated at the end of the chamber.

The seat was occupied, and the demon sitting on it gave him a smile. Castiel glowered back at Crowley, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Castiel. What a pleasant surprise. Did you come all this way just to see your old business partner?" the demon asked. He gestured to another of his servants waiting in the wings. She scurried forward, torch light glinting off the metal bracelets she carried.

Castiel didn't react to the sight of the cuffs as the demons forced his arms behind his back, but he mentally cursed. Sigils. Great. The instant the metal restraints clamped around his wrists, he felt his wings and his grace lock down tightly.

"Cas-" Dean started, though he was cut off with a muffled growl. A demon had a hand over his mouth and the hunter had no leverage to fight his way free.

The angel wanted to rip them all apart for laying a hand on his friend, but even more than that, he wished he could fly forward and smite Crowley to pieces.

"You know perfectly well what we came for," Castiel snapped in reply to Crowley, trying to dig his heels in as the demons gripping him shoved him closer to the throne. "And it's not to see you."

"Really, I'm wounded," Crowley replied, though the satisfaction on his face said otherwise. "But no matter. I can't tell you how disappointed I was to find out you'd gone loony before I could pay you back for that little stunt with the Purgatory souls. But now that you seem to be sane again… oh you can't even imagine. I've had a long time to plan what I'd do when I finally caught you, Castiel."

The angel's only response was a deeper scowl. Castiel would not be intimidated by this loathsome creature, even though the danger was a real one. He raised his head in defiance, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Crowley.

"You seem unimpressed."

"You seem unimpressive."

Crowley snorted. "There's that spirit. I'm going to enjoy breaking you and that pride of yours." He beckoned the demons to bring the captive angel forward, then gestured to the side of the throne where two stone pillars stood.

Seeing in an instant what Crowley intended for him, Castiel tried to fight, even overpowered as he was. He heard Crowley clear his throat meaningfully, and froze when he saw the demons holding Dean tighten their grips with Castiel's blade at the human's neck.

Right. Killing Dean would release the human's soul, which Crowley could keep to torture forever regardless of the Righteous Man's allotted seat in Heaven. The King of Hell had already proven he would stoop to that. Dean gave him a glare, clearly wanting him to keep fighting, but Castiel was unwilling to be the cause of his friend's suffering. He stopped struggling and allowed his captors to drag him over to the first pillar and shove him down onto his knees.

Manacles at the bottom of the pillar locked around his ankles on either side of the stone column. A demon grabbed Castiel's bound wrists and jerked upward, hard enough for him to grunt in surprised discomfort. His arms couldn't bend that way, so when she locked him in place with a shorter length of chain attached high on the pillar, his only choice was to bow forward to relieve the pressure on his shoulders.

"There's a good boy," Crowley said, all condescension and smugness. He waved a hand to indicate the remaining demons do the same to Dean.

Castiel clenched his jaw, fury welling up within him to have been bested by this scum. All the worse that Dean was there; the angel had no doubt that Crowley would use their friendship to his advantage, and Castiel would be unable to protect the hunter once the torture started. Hopefully, Crowley's anger with the angel meant he would take the lion's share of the punishment, not Dean.

"Cas?" the hunter hissed as he was locked in place at the second pillar, biting back a grunt of his own when his arms were similarly forced up behind him so that he was left in an uncomfortable hunch.

"Sigiled cuffs," Castiel muttered back, knowing his friend would be trying to formulate an escape plan. His own mind whirred, trying to do the same. He did not like that they were trapped in Hell, far away from aid. He did not like being unable to access his grace or his wings. And he certainly did not like the position they were in, pantomiming the subservient gesture of bowing to Crowley—of all people.

The demon in question had no doubt created the entire setup for just this reason, judging by the gratification in his dark eyes as he stood and bore down on the two captives.

"Well, I must say," Crowley said as he held out his hand for Castiel's blade. "This will be worth every second I had to wait."

"Your fight is with me, Crowley," Castiel snapped, testing the chain suspending his arms up and behind him. It refused to yield. "Let Dean return to Earth."

"I'm not leaving without you, Cas," Dean retorted. He jerked at his own restraints with a jangle of chains, but got no farther than Castiel had.

"How touching. But did I make the big, dumb squirrel come down here?" Crowley asked. "No, I did not."

The demon prowled even closer, so that Castiel had to strain his neck just to maintain eye contact. Once again he cursed this position he was stuck in, but he refused to bow his head or appear cowed, even when Crowley raised the angel blade.

He slid it along Castiel's throat as the demons filling the chamber shifted in obvious excitement. The blade was sharp enough to draw a thin line of blood; Castiel's grace flared in the wound, the glow emphasized even more by the hellish surroundings. The angel gritted his teeth in an effort to remain silent.

Dean, on the other hand, was not so reticent.

"Crowley, you touch him and I swear to god-"

"You'll do nothing about it," Crowley finished for him. The demon's free hand gripped Castiel's hair, wrenching his head down so that the angel was forced to stare at the ground in the very posture of humility he'd been trying to avoid. The blade didn't leave his throat. "That's better," Crowley seethed. "Servility looks good on you. Where's that famous pride of yours now, eh?"

Around them, the demons were starting to whisper now, probably hoping for blood, but Castiel knew Crowley wasn't going to kill him outright. The King of Hell was out for revenge, which meant long, slow torture. This was a good thing; they still had plenty of time to escape, and he could handle anything Crowley chose to dish out… he hoped. Castiel didn't respond to the taunt, though it rankled.

Crowley chuckled and pushed Castiel's head farther down so that his wrists screamed in protest to take so much weight.

"Angel, if you only knew the tortures I have in store for you."

...

"Okay, stop. You're doing it wrong," Meg complained. She didn't move from her position, tucked in close to the angel in the bed and resting her head on his chest. "That's not how you tell a bedtime story."

Castiel paused, glancing down. "I thought you wanted a retelling of our latest misadventure. Did you… not want to hear that part?"

"Don't get me wrong… you being chained up, that's all kinds of hot," the demon assured him as she twisted her head to meet his eye with a mischievous twinkle. "We'll come back to that. But you're supposed to start from the beginning. What were you doing in Hell? How did Crowley catch you?"

Castiel wrinkled his brow in confusion, thumb rubbing a gentle circle against the smooth skin of her arm. "You already know what we were doing there."

Meg rolled her eyes and sighed with an air of great patience. "Not the point. You have to tell it right, from the beginning. We've been over this, Clarence. Did I start the story about the three bears who ate Goldilocks with them picking their teeth clean? Of course not, it starts with the girl waltzing into their house."

"I'm still not convinced that's how the story was supposed to end."

"The point is, I want to hear the whole story. Go back farther."

She snuggled in closer, prompting a smile from Castiel. He leaned back against the headboard, grateful that his wounds had all but disappeared by now, and Meg would be good as new before too long. His angelic touch had no power to heal a demon, or he would have done so. But at least it gave him an excuse to stay for a while.

"Well… okay. How much farther back?"

"To the beginning, Clarence. I taught you how to tell a bedtime story, remember? Once upon a time…"

...

"Once upon a time, there was an angel who wouldn't shut up and go to sleep," Meg said, voice as smooth and even as ever, even in her annoyance. She crossed her arms and glared down at Cas, reclined on the bed and smiling up at her. "Even though he knew the orderlies would come give him more pills if he didn't."

"You're talking about me," Cas pointed out, the smile not dimming in the slightest.

Meg rolled her eyes. The angel had been so much easier to look after before he'd woken up from his coma, only a few hours ago.

"Very clever, Clarence," she said. "You get a gold star for figuring that out."

"I do?" Cas sat up on the bed, looking bewildered. "Where am I going to keep it? I don't think bringing a gaseous heavenly body so close to the Earth would be-"

"It's a figure of speech, dimwit," Meg growled.

Cas's face fell, and the demon felt an uncomfortable stirring of guilt. She sighed, sitting down on the bed next to the angel. No one could have anticipated that he would wake up so suddenly, or that he would be… well… not his normal self. Meg had been prepared to flee if necessary, when he found himself in such close proximity to someone like her. Castiel would have had every reason to smite the demon immediately.

Instead, he'd just stared at her, seeming more perplexed than angry.

"Meg?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been in a coma. Do you remember-"

"The Cage scars… that's right… Sam. Have you seen Sam? Where's Sam and Dean?"

Meg swallowed, not sure how to tell him, with so much hope in his eyes. "They're fine. They're hunting."

"They're not- oh. Okay. Yes, that's good, they should be out doing their jobs." And damn, that slumping in his shoulders had made Meg feel… well, something. And then that little head tilt. "But why are you here, then?"

"Someone had to look after you. If the demons found out you were here, defenseless-"

"You stayed to protect me?"

Meg had never seen the angel show any emotion other than grim ferocity, but the smile blossoming across his face now transformed him completely. It took Meg by surprise.

"Don't read too much into it, angel," she advised. "I need friends."

"We can be friends," he decided, pushing the bedsheets aside. "Shall we go find-"

"Wait, hold on!" Meg protested. Something deep inside pinged with emotion at his readiness to accept her friendship with no questions asked, as though it didn't matter that she was a human soul twisted into something repulsive, and he was a divine warrior of God. Meg pushed that aside, burying it beneath layers of thorns.

She reached out to stop the angel in his tracks, studying his face. There was no trace of the residual evil she'd felt lurking beneath his skull ever since he'd fallen into the coma. "What about the scars? How are you awake?"

"Hmm. I don't know. But it's gone. Isn't that wonderful?" Cas looked around, his face falling. "Meg… have you seen Sam or Dean?"

Clearly he'd been foggy from returning to consciousness. But the longer Meg waited for it to pass, the more she began to realize he wasn't getting much clearer. In the first hour alone, he asked for Sam and Dean five times, and each time Meg got a little more peeved that the Winchesters weren't there. Especially since she was the one who had to watch Cas's face fall every time she reminded him that they weren't around.

The burden he'd lifted from Sam seemed to have affected his mind, though, and Meg had her hands full keeping his craziness in check.

But she wouldn't complain; if he'd been sane, he wouldn't have let her anywhere near him, regardless of how diligently she'd watched over him when the Winchesters couldn't.

And now she was calling him names and hurting his feelings. Meg sighed. "Look, just lay down on the bed," she ordered, feeling another surge of annoyance when he meekly complied.

"But I'm an angel, I don't need to sleep. I don't even know if I can."

"You still need to rest. Besides, you've got to act like a human, Clarence. The orderlies can't find out you're an angel, got it? No one can find out you're an angel. So just… close your eyes until morning."

He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have laid there on the bed, closing his eyes so that he couldn't keep her in his line of sight. Meg had an angel blade, always on hand in case of demonic visitors. She could have killed him in seconds. Castiel was a seasoned warrior, who should have known never to take his eyes off his enemy, so why was he obeying her so trustingly?

She was not trustworthy. Hell, she'd been there when Lucifer had imprisoned the angel in holy fire, had stood guard (albeit unsuccessfully) to ensure he wouldn't escape. She was a demon. Castiel should not trust her.

"It's not working," he said from the bed, squinting one eye open. "I told you, I don't think I can sleep. Can we play a game instead?"

"No." Meg exhaled, hoping Sam and Dean got there soon. "How about I tell you a story? A real one this time."

"Okay."

Okay. Meg took a breath. "Once upon a time, there was a selfish little brat named Goldilocks, walking through the woods. She came upon a house in the middle of the forest. And, because she was quite rude and had never been warned of stranger danger, she waltzed right on in."

Meg watched the angel's face as she told him the story, not sure if he seemed glazed over because of the insanity he'd woken with, or if it was something to do with her. She tried not to shift in discomfort. People didn't usually look at her like that, and it put her on guard. Sure, Lucifer had occasionally offered her attention and praise, and though she craved that acceptance, on some level she always knew it wasn't real.

Positive reinforcement, nothing more, a little trinket to keep her loyal and at his side, as though she'd had anywhere else to be or anything else to do. She'd been valuable, not valued.

"Goldilocks only made about half a meal for a hungry family, but the three bears lived happily ever after without any more humans poking their noses in where they didn't belong."

Meg fell silent, but Cas continued to watch her for a second, before seeming to realize she was done with her story. The angel smiled, propping his head up on a hand.

"You have such a soothing voice," he said, unprompted. "It reminds me of a gentle brook, trickling through a forest on a summer day."

Meg stared at him. What?

"It's beautiful," he continued, the picture of contentedness. "I could listen to you talk all night. Will you tell me another one?"

Still, she couldn't speak. This hadn't been her intention. Meg felt as muddled as the angel looked, but she narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. Cas shifted on the bed, getting more comfortable, and smiled hopefully.

She wanted to tell him no, but it was the same hope on his face when he repeatedly inquired about Sam and Dean, and Meg didn't feel like dealing with his disappointment.

"Flattery won't work on me," she told him, recovering herself. "Put up or shut up."

"What does that mean?"

Oh hell. Another time, Meg would have jumped all over the golden opportunity, but at the moment she was still a trifle disturbed at how compliant Castiel was being now that his omelet had been scrambled. He'd been vulnerable while unconscious, of course, but that vulnerability hadn't disappeared. Just… shifted. Though Meg was a being of indulgence and gratification, she shook her head. It would be too easy.

"Nothing, Clarence," she assured him. "Fine, one more. Once upon a time, there was a peasant girl who thought too highly of herself and a stepmother who was unfairly misunderstood…"

The more she talked, the more contentedly he smiled. So Meg kept talking.

And that was how it began.


	2. There Was a Friend Who'd Been Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To get you oriented to this chapter, we begin where TFW's recent adventure started, a while before the events of the first chapter :) Also, got some AU aspects here... and speaking of AU, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that for simplicity's sake, there's no Kevin or tablets or prophets in this version of things, so forget about them.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Once upon a time, because stories should start at the beginning… the woods surrounding the Bunker were dark, a hushed silence in the dim tinges of dawn that left Castiel on edge. There should have been crickets chirping, birds just starting to wake, nocturnal creatures scurrying over fallen leaves. Instead, there was absolute stillness. That alone would have tipped him off that something was wrong, even had he not been able to sense the malevolent presence and the faint whiff of sulfur somewhere close by.

"We sure the alarms were on this side of the building?" Dean whispered, voice barely above the volume of a breath. He leaned around the tree they were grouped behind, hidden by its vast trunk.

Castiel nodded in assent as he clenched his blade tightly.

"Good thing you put the extra warding up for us, Cas," Sam breathed. He held up the demon killing knife in an overhand grip. "Worked like a charm to warn us about intruders  _outside_  the Bunker."

"Now let's just hope it's pure coincidence," the older hunter growled. "Take him alive. We gotta make sure the demons haven't figured out where we are."

Again, Castiel nodded. As a celestial being who didn't require sleep, he would have been more than happy to stand guard and take care of the intruder himself, but the blaring alarms had brought both the brothers running from their beds with weapons already drawn. He didn't like the thought that Crowley might have located the Winchesters' stronghold, but the angel would make sure this was one demon who would never report back to the King of Hell.

Following Dean's signals, the three fanned out from their hiding place, eyes peeled and weapons at the ready. Castiel took the right flank, keen senses easily piercing the darkness. Like Dean, he hoped this was just a coincidence, though he had a bad feeling it was not. Crowley was too sharp and his thirst for vengeance ran too deep.

The angel slowly crept across the forest floor towards the copse of trees where he'd hidden one of the sigiled alarm triggers. His eyes narrowed as he noted the demonic presence was getting slightly fainter, indicating he was going the wrong way. Castiel had barely paused to turn around when the gunshot shattered the stillness.

"Dean!" he shouted, eyes widening as he flew towards the sound with a frantic flapping of wings.

The angel stumbled to a halt as he landed beside the hunter, gaping at the scene in silent bafflement. Dean stood with smoking gun raised, an unfamiliar demon collapsed on the ground several feet away, paralyzed by the devil's trap etched into the hunter's bullets.

Directly on the other side, another figure was poised with an angel blade set to plunge into where the intruder had just been. She stared in shock between her fallen quarry and the hunter who had shot him.

Castiel blinked. "Meg?"

She straightened, lowering her blade as her lips tugged up into a half-smile. "Well, well. Long time, no see, Clarence."

"Yeah, let's drop the formalities," Dean snapped, keeping the gun trained on her. "What are you doing here?"

"Dean Winchester-" the downed demon tried to interrupt with a smug drawl, but both Meg and Dean glared at him and snapped,

"Shut up!"

Meg nudged the demon's face down into the ground with her foot and stepped on him to keep it there, muffling any retort. "Relax, Deano," she said. "This creep is one of Crowley's insiders. I was following him, looking for a way to get close enough to the king to stick a blade in his heart." She raised the angel blade as evidence, but then spread her hands in a show of peace. Her eyes flicked to Castiel, who had yet to look away.

Slowly, his mouth stretched into a smile. "You're… looking well," he offered, remembering it as a polite greeting among humans. It wasn't strictly honest. Her true face was as deformed as any demon's, though Castiel had long since become accustomed to it… and the other side of her hidden beneath the twisted brambles and thorns of her tortured soul.

Meg smirked. "That's all I get?"

"You're gonna get a bullet between the eyes if you don't tell me what's going on!" Dean growled.

Castiel sighed, just as the crashing sound of Sam's footsteps heralded the hunter's approach, not able to run as quickly as the angel could fly.

"Dean!" he gasped. "I heard the shot-"

The younger hunter broke off as he recognized Meg. He stumbled to a halt, looking between her and the frozen demon on the ground. "Um…"

"Hiya, Sammy," Meg greeted him with the same even tone. "Yes, it's me. No, I'm not invading. I'm actually here to help, if your brother would put the gun down for a minute."

"Dean," Castiel murmured, reaching out to urge the hunter's weapon down away from Meg. "If she's been following this demon, we should listen to what she knows. Has she not proven herself an ally?"

Meg waited a beat before stowing her own angel blade away. Her eyes darkened as she explained, "Like I said, he's one of Crowley's. I've been keeping tabs on as many of the inner circle as I could. Crowley has been after you boys since Purgatory, so I figured the best bet was to take him out first. This guy might give me a way in."

"But how did he find us?" Sam demanded, fixing his glare on the paralyzed intruder.

"That's what we're gonna figure out right now," his older brother replied. "Come on, let's get him down to the dungeon."

"The… dungeon?" Meg echoed, canting her head. "Kinky. Didn't think you boys were into that sort of thing." Her eyes flashed black. "But I need him. You _are_ planning to leave some for me, right?"

The brothers traded a quick look, while Castiel maintained his silence. Though it had been months since they had returned from Purgatory, and though there had been no mention of the souls he had swallowed or the atrocities he had committed in that time, Castiel wasn't eager to side against their wishes. What Meg said made sense; surely they would realize that on their own.

"We need to know how close Crowley is to finding us," Dean finally said. "But yeah, killing him would be good. Let us take a crack at this guy, then he's all yours."

Meg pursed her lips, but seemed satisfied, to Castiel's relief.

"And, you can stay out here," Dean added. "No offense. Cas?"

The hunter gestured to the demon still on the ground. Castiel nodded and stepped over to the enemy, took him by the arm, and flew him straight down to the dungeon. With efficient caution, Castiel locked the demon in the chair that sat in the center of the enormous devil's trap, taking pains to ensure it was fully secure. By the time he'd done so, Sam and Dean were already hurrying into the room.

"Will you be alright alone with him?" Castiel spoke up before the interrogation could begin. Though this was certainly important, he had every confidence in the hunters' ability to get the answers they were looking for, but there was another demon who might still have more to tell them. It only made sense that they split their attention so he could talk to Meg.

Dean glanced at Castiel, then smirked. "Yeah, yeah, go see your girlfriend. We got this."

"She's not my-" the angel started, before deciding it wasn't worth the argument. Besides, he didn't even know what they were, to correct Dean. With another flap of his wings, he returned to the woods outside the Bunker.

Meg was leaning casually against a tree, but her eyes quickly found Castiel as he landed beside her.

"So," she jumped in before he could say anything. "Still with these two?"

He nodded. "And what of you?" Castiel asked. He studied the demon; though Meg seemed entirely at ease to all outward appearances, there was a reservation in the way she regarded him and didn't come any closer as she would have done back at the ward. "You've been on your own all this time?"

Meg laughed and gave him a wink. "Jealous that I might have found someone else?"

"Have you?" The possibility hadn't actually occurred to him.

With a shake of her head, the demon looked away. "No."

A silence descended, making Castiel shift from one foot to the other. Finally, he tried again. "I'm sorry I haven't contacted you since our escape from Purgatory, after the Leviathans. Which… I don't believe I've properly thanked you for."

This time when Meg looked at him, the uncertainty in her gaze was more overt. Either she was dropping her guard or he was getting better at reading her. Or both. Castiel waited, and Meg finally murmured,

"It's fine. I didn't know if…"

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "What?"

She snorted. "Look, Clarence, it's not that complicated. I'm a demon. You're an angel. I'm not exactly the kind of company you should be keeping. I think Crowley proved that."

Castiel stared at her, brow wrinkling in confusion. "That never stopped you before."

"You weren't sane before."

 _Oh_. Understanding locked Castiel in place as he considered the demon before him. "You believed once I was in my right mind, I wouldn't feel the same?"

She didn't answer, merely raised an eyebrow as though waiting for a confirmation. Castiel shook his head and took a step closer. Hesitantly, he reached out and—when she didn't move away—set a hand on her shoulder.

"I was sane when you convinced me to leave Purgatory with you," he reminded her, voice low and gravelly.

Meg's eyes dropped to the hand on her shoulder, and the tightness in her face evaporated. "True," she said smoothly. "Well then. In that case, I think we should order some pizza and move some furniture around. You understand?"

Castiel dropped his hand, less out of discomfort and more out of the need to turn away before she realized he was blushing at the sudden shift in conversation. The pizza man… yes, he understood the insinuation.  _That_ was the Meg he remembered. "I- yes, actually. Um…"

Her soft chuckle sent another flare of heat to Castiel's cheeks. "You're cute when you get all flustered, Clarence."

"Cas!"

Both Castiel and Meg whirled towards the sound of Dean's voice. The angel straightened as he noted the expression sported by both Sam and Dean as they stormed forward, and for half a second he thought they might have overheard Meg's innuendo and were angered by it. Then he registered the underlying panic and fear from the two hunters.

"Dean?" he asked, looking between the brothers. They hadn't been with the demon that long… "What is it?"

"Bobby," Sam snarled.

Castiel stared. "What?"

"Bobby's soul!" Dean raged, drawing to a stop in front of Castiel. "He's in Hell! You gotta go get him out!"

Wait… that couldn't be right. "No," Castiel argued, feeling Meg tense beside him. "Bobby was granted a place in Heaven."

"Damn it, Cas, the demon had proof! We don't have time to argue. This is  _Bobby_. You need to go get him,  _now_!"

Meg pushed her way past Castiel, standing in front of Dean with arms crossed and a cool glare on her face. "You've got some nerve, Deano," she said evenly. "Handing out orders to an angel? Go run an errand to Hell for us, Cas. Like it's the supermarket."

"Meg," Castiel murmured, touching her arm. He stepped forward, swallowing. "Bobby is a friend. Of course I would help."

"That's my point!" she retorted, still glowering at the brothers. "They could have just  _asked_. But not you two, you come in  _demanding_  he do this for you-"

"That demon was here to deal!" Dean cut her off, raising an accusatory hand to point at Meg. "He knew you were following him, set everything up nicely for a trade! We hand over Meg, and Crowley releases Bobby. So unless that's the arrangement you prefer-"

"That makes it even worse, dumbass!" Meg snapped back, voice rising at last. "So not only do you expect Cas to just fly into Hell, Crowley's practically daring him to do it. That means he'll be  _expecting_  Cas. You want him to go waltzing into Crowley's arms? Because trust me, as bad as Crowley wants me, he wants Feathers here even worse. If you're that eager to sacrifice him, why don't you just call Crowley up and say so?"

Dean drew his gun, face thunderous. "Say that again," the hunter hissed, as Meg narrowed her eyes.

"What, that you're always ordering him around? Or that you're willing to send him to Hell like it's nothing? You Winchesters have died so many times, it's like Hell doesn't even impress you anymore. Well, you might not remember, but I happen to know both times Cas went in after you, he nearly died, so how about you take  _five seconds_  to appreciate what you're demanding him to do?"

"Meg," Castiel sighed. He knew Dean didn't  _intend_ to be callous, or that he was eager to send the angel to his death; he was simply scared for Bobby, and rightly so. Dean meant well.

Besides, after everything Castiel had done to hurt his friends, he wouldn't balk at this chance to do something good, no matter the risk.

But for her to speak up for him, to care… it was unexpected, and touched Castiel's heart.

"For your information," Sam grumbled as he stepped into the mix—though Castiel noticed he was also moving close enough to grab Dean if need be. "We do know what Hell's like. That's why we need to get Bobby out,  _now_. And we're not sending Cas in alone. He just has to get us there."

"Me," Dean corrected, eyes flashing. "He just needs to get  _me_ there. I'll get Bobby myself."

Sam spun towards his brother, spluttering in dismay. "What? No, I'm-"

"-going to stay here! You're not going back, Sammy."

"But to clarify," Meg jumped in, "it's okay for  _Cas_  to go back, which kinda proves my point-"

"Meg," Castiel cut her off again, seeing fire in Dean's eyes. He touched her cheek, twisting her to face him fully, away from the hunters. "This is the best option we have," he pointed out. "You and Sam stay here. I won't abandon Bobby in Hell,  _or_ leave Dean without backup. And we need as few of us going as possible, to remain inconspicuous." If there was any way of talking Dean out of joining him, Castiel would have done so, but he knew better than to think the hunter would be swayed when it was Bobby on the line.

The female demon's eyes darkened as she leaned in closer. Her voice lowered as she murmured, "This is a trap to get  _you_. If Crowley wanted me that badly, his demon wouldn't have let me follow him all the way here."

Castiel nodded; he'd drawn the same conclusion. But still… "I have to take that chance." He paused with hand lingering on her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from Meg's core where hellfire had scorched her soul. It didn't burn so much as simmer, a forbidden flame that he should not be so near, and yet no longer cared about resisting.

It wasn't like he'd followed the rules in a long time, anyway.

Stepping closer to Dean, Castiel raised his head. "We'll be back. Hopefully."

…

"Is this better?" Castiel asked Meg as she stretched out in the bed without moving away from him. "Am I telling it properly?"

"Mostly. That's not exactly how I said things."

Castiel's mouth twitched. "No," he agreed. "I didn't find some of the words necessary to repeat."

"I still think they're ungrateful jerks," Meg told him with a careful shrug. She winced and rubbed her shoulder as the movement pulled on a wound. "Honestly. Don't you get tired of the disrespect? Given how angels  _used_ to be treated?"

Castiel shook his head. "They mean well," he assured her. "Their hearts are in the right place and they  _are_ true friends. And no, to be honest, I never enjoyed being frightening to humans even in the old days. Not like some of my brethren. But after the things I've done… mistakes I've made… I'm not all that deserving of respect."

The demon looked up at him, a hand catching his cheek to keep their gazes locked. "You actually are."

How was she so able to constantly throw him off base? Castiel paused, captured by Meg's intensity, then cleared his throat with a little smile.

"Anyway," he hurried on, "after that stunt you pulled, perhaps their attitude may change."

"That stunt I pulled? You're welcome for that. They needed it and I'm not sorry. Don't forget, this isn't the first time I've seen them take you for granted."

…

 _Meg couldn't pretend it wasn't a relief when the Winchesters finally made it to the ward._  Cas was making her uncomfortable, the way he so fully trusted her. She could have killed him ten times by now, and the stupid angel just kept giving her those puppy dog eyes of adoration like she wasn't the most grotesque thing he'd ever seen.

"He's in here," she said, leading the boys up to Cas's room. "Brace yourselves. He's different."

Dean didn't say anything, looking like a constipated mule, but Sam asked softly, "Different how?"

"Oh, you'll see."

Meg opened the door to let the boys in. Cas was seated on his bed, gazing out the window with a look of such contentment that it actually hurt for Meg to see, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Cas?" Sam called, coming to a stop as they regarded the angel. "It… it's us."

Slowly, Castiel twisted towards them, face breaking into a huge grin like he was seeing Christmas for the first time. "Sam!" He looked from one to the other. "Dean! You came!"

Dean still didn't say anything as Meg went to stand by the wall and crossed her arms. Sam frowned, studying the angel.

"How? When we left you-"

"I was comatose, yes," Cas finished for him, beaming. "And then I woke up. Isn't it marvelous? You can see the gardens from here. There's a little bee hive in the top corner of that tree, do you see it?" He reached forward, grabbing Sam and pulling him over to look out the window with him. Behind his back, Sam shot Meg a questioning look, but she only shrugged.

"Um… yeah, Cas, that's great," Sam said. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling wonderful. This place… everyone is so nice here. They bring me food three times a day, because Meg says I musn't tell them I'm an angel and don't need to eat. Everyone sort of leaves me to my own devices. There's no more wars. You know, I've been at war since before the dawn of man, and it's finally over."

The honest, almost naïve relief in his voice drove another spike through Meg's heart. Perhaps it was jealousy, she mused. Perhaps she envied the angel this chance at such simple peace, something she'd never had before her death, or any time since. Something she could never have. She wondered what it felt like.

Looking at Cas's face, erased of all worry and stress at long last, Meg realized this was the closest she would ever get to finding out.

"Cas?" Dean finally spoke up, looking confused and almost angry. "Look, man… don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're awake. Hell, I'm… I'm ecstatic. But what's going on with you? We need your head in the game."

"The game? Like Sorry? Meg plays it with me sometimes." He turned towards the demon, smile so radiant and pure that Meg's heart ached because she didn't deserve that look from any being of goodness. "Just look at her," he sighed contentedly. "My protector."

"Your-" Dean started, then cut off. He glared at Meg. "What did you do to him?"

The demon straightened, expression not betraying her annoyance at the accusation. "You heard him. I protected him. That was the deal, remember? You go do your thing, I watch after our wayward angel?"

"Then why is he acting like he has bats in the belfry?" Dean demanded.

Cas's face fell, and for a second, Meg hated the Winchesters. "I'm sure I must seem different," he confessed, looking at the ground and slumping. "I don't seem to have managed the Cage scars as well as Sam did. But… we can still be friends, can't we?"

"Cas, of course we're still friends," Sam assured him urgently, either not hearing or not having time to acknowledge the worry more fully. "Listen, do you remember the Leviathans?"

"Yeah," Dean added. "The ones  _you_ let out of Purgatory? They're wreaking havoc! So it's time for you to help clean up your mess."

Castiel shrugged with clear apology. "I don't fight anymore."

The Winchesters traded a swift look, laden with incredulity and a touch of desperation, before Sam turned back to Cas. "What?"

"I don't fight," he repeated. The angel sat down on the bed, spinning so he was cross-legged and looking out the window. "When I do, things break. I… I broke Sam. I broke Heaven. Trying to help. I murdered thousands of-" He broke off, kneading his hands together as he looked down. "No, the fighting's over."

"Okay, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Dean snapped, storming over to the bed. "We need you in this or we wouldn't be asking. I don't care if you don't want to fight, you have to. We all do. So let's go."

Meg's cool expression slipped, her brow tightening as she watched Cas curl in more and more on himself. Even she, a demon, had not been able to elicit such a reaction from him. The simple peace was gone, replaced by crushing guilt and despondency that she could still remember herself when her human soul had first found itself in Hell.

"So that's it?" she drawled with an unimpressed glower at the Winchesters. "You didn't come to see how he was doing, you came to drag him back out into battle? In  _this_ condition? He said he doesn't fight anymore. So why don't you back off?"

"Really?" Dean snorted. "You're a demon. Why are you defending him?"

Meg stepped forward, tilting her face up at the hunter's. "You're his best friend. Why aren't you?"

And that was when something changed.

Maybe it was because here was an angel who had thrown himself into a cause, who had given everything for what he believed in, and lost so that everyone else could win… and those who reaped the highest benefit from that sacrifice were now the ones who still wanted more.

Maybe it was because Meg could relate.

But whereas she would have been furious, Cas's devotion never wavered. Meg couldn't imagine being treated with that kind of loyalty. Castiel was an enigma: he should despise her, but didn't… an angel who clearly needed looking after, who wouldn't be as much protection as she'd originally thought. Yet… maybe one worth being her cause.

_At least for a while longer._


	3. Two Captured Heroes

Hell was just as awful as Castiel remembered it.

The first time he'd been here, he'd been a devout, powerful angel of the Lord, assured in his righteousness and filled with divine purpose. Hell had terrified him, and rightfully so, but his fear had been overpowered by his desire to rescue Dean Winchester.

The second time Castiel had been here, he'd been a newly promoted seraph, too desperate to save Sam to be stopped by the sheer stupidity of flying into the heart of Hell itself.

But his memories of Hell involved blood and torture and nightmares. Castiel did not want to be here, any more than he'd  _wanted_  to journey in the first two times; Meg was correct that both had nearly cost him his life. But, as before, he refused to turn back, not when there was one last soul deserving rescue.

And so he braved the flight, holding tightly to Dean and wishing yet again that the stubborn human hadn't insisted on coming.

They landed in the shadows of an immense fortress silhouetted against an eerie, fiery sky; the same prison where Castiel had found Dean. The angel knew very little of the geography of Hell, save for what he'd seen himself. This was the most likely place he could think of to start their search for Bobby.

"Ugh, the smell," Dean immediately grumbled as the pair paused to gather themselves. He wrinkled his nose, but even Castiel with his limited understanding of human emotions could see the disgust was a poor cover for the terror the hunter was facing.

If Castiel, an angel, found this place so formidable, what nightmares must it bring back to the human who had spent forty years first being tortured and then being twisted into a torturer himself?

Castiel didn't mention this, though, merely dropped his blade down into his hand with a wary glance around the dark crags surrounding the fortress. "Crowley will have his demons on the lookout for us," he said. "We'll have to be cautious."

Together, the two began to circumnavigate the structure, searching for a possible point of entry. At first, they moved in silence, but Castiel could feel Dean fuming beside him. Finally the hunter seemed unable to stay quiet, as he snapped,

"I'm not 'eager' to sacrifice you. If you want to go, just go."

Castiel sighed. "I know you aren't. And of course I'm not going to leave you to do this on your own."

"It's not like you owe Bobby anything. I'm not gonna  _order_ you in here."

Meg certainly seemed to have gotten under Dean's skin. Castiel wondered if it was because the hunter recognized the glimmer of truth in her words. "I said I'm not going to leave you.  _Or_ Bobby. Meg was right, you don't _have_ to order me to save him."

"But you think she's right, you think we boss you around?" Dean pressed. "Seriously? After the way the other angels treated you, you think  _we_ are anything like that? You're our friend, not our… our  _servant_."

Castiel bit his tongue. Now was not the time to be having this discussion, not that he would have willingly entered into it regardless of the circumstances. He knew he was not their servant. But he also knew how much the Winchesters had over him. Even if they didn't willfully abuse that power as his own brothers and sisters occasionally would.

His silence must have lasted too long, because Dean scoffed and shifted his grip on the extra angel blade Castiel had procured for him.

"Oh, that's just great. Great, Cas."

"Perhaps we should be focusing on our mission."

"Yeah. Sure. Don't worry, I'm not gonna order you to talk to me, either."

Castiel stopped and turned to Dean. It seemed the hunter wasn't going to be satisfied until they had discussed this, though the thought made Castiel's chest constrict. He didn't want to argue.

"I have always wanted to assist you," he said diplomatically.

Dean stopped as well, glowering at him. There was uncertainty in the green depths, though. "Why? Just because we told you to? Is that…?"

The angel heaved another impatient sigh and refrained from rolling his eyes. "You know, the reason I fell was because of my belief in free will. Should I want to refuse anything you demand of me, I'm free to do so."

"Yeah, but  _would_ you?"

_No._

"Of course." A lie. Castiel had too much to make up for and too much to lose… there was almost nothing he would have refused.

Dean eyed him, but thankfully seemed to accept the answer. His scowl deepened as he turned to keep walking around the towering kingdom. "Meg. I'll always appreciate what she did for you, but… come on. What do you see in her, anyway?"

Castiel was silent for another moment. In some ways, he didn't fully understand it himself. In other ways, it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Meg protected me when I had no means of protecting myself."

The hunter shifted, a flash of something across his face, but he quickly looked away and grumbled, "That's it? Look, man, I'm not trying to come between you, but if you honestly think she didn't have ulterior motives-"

"She did," Castiel cut him off. He stopped, waiting until Dean had turned to look at him before finishing, "But those motives never came to fruition. Meg thought she was making a powerful friend, yet stayed even once discovering her mistake. I told you I would not refuse any demand you made of me, but Meg never made any. She never once expected me to use my abilities to do anything for her, never made use of the angel at her disposal.  _No one_ else can make that claim."

Castiel's eyes bored into Dean's. "Not even you."

He turned away, not wanting to see the hurt in his friend's expression, but the fact was an indisputable one. They walked in silence after that, for which Castiel was grateful.

Finally, they had made it the entire way around, but had seen no entrance other than the front door. Castiel did not care to try those odds. Especially since they weren't certain Bobby was even being held here. He glanced up at the parapet high over their heads, mentally gauging the distance.

"Can you get us up there?" Dean asked, instinctively turning to watch both of their backs.

"Yes. But if there's a way to scale the wall, I would rather try that first."

Dean cocked a questioning glance back at him, and Castiel looked away.

"I don't want to use my wings more than necessary in here. I have to keep them tucked in as much as possible in order to keep them from burning. This atmosphere… the fires, the smog… it's all toxic."

The hunter was silent for a moment, before finally asking in a gruffer voice, "So when you came to get me… and then Sam…?"

Still studying the wall with a contemplative frown, Castiel shrugged. "My wings used to be white."

"Cas."

He didn't turn right away, fearing perhaps he had said too much, and now Dean was even more angry with him. When a hand fell on his shoulder, though, firm instead of demanding, Castiel twisted to face the hunter. Dean's eyes held sorrow and resolve.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't regret raising you from-"

"No. I mean, yeah, that too. But, everything. I guess… we've really taken you for granted. You deserve better than that. And demanding you come back here without even stopping to think what it might cost you… or what it's  _already_ cost you… it was a really crappy thing to do. So, I'm sorry, Cas."

Castiel felt his sincerity, entrenched within true contrition. The angel's clenched jaw eased enough to offer a small smile. "You are my friend," he said. "But after we rescue Bobby, why don't we try to avoid Hell as much as possible?"

"Deal," Dean returned with an awkward chuckle. "Yeah, this place sucks. And, um… I'm glad Meg showed back up. She's… she's good for you. I never really realized  _how_  good."

Castiel's smile widened a bit more despite the poisonous fumes surrounding them and the perilous mission they faced. "Yes. But for now, I think I'm going to have to fly us-"

"You're not going  _anywhere_ , angel!"

They arrived from thin air, small popping noises heralding the appearance of each demon in turn. First a few… then a dozen. Then even more. Taken by surprise, Castiel barely had time to slice one of the Hell denizens down before he and Dean were surrounded by a seething mass of the monsters. He yelled, reaching for Dean with no other thought than retreat. There were too many to fight. They would have to find another way to get Bobby.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, not there when the angel tried to grab him. He'd been pulled back by four or five of the foul creatures, all dragging him away from Castiel. The hunter couldn't raise his weapon to fight back with his arms snagged and held.

"Close your eyes!" Castiel snapped, wielding his blade against another demon that lunged towards him. His free hand rose in preparation to smite as many as possible, even as he knew with sinking heart that it would do no good. The demon he faced was speared on the end of the blade, but had already been replaced by ten more before Castiel could gather enough power. They surged in, tackling the angel to the ground from behind by sheer force of numbers.

"Take them!" snarled the demon in charge—identifiable by her position of safety in the rear of the horde.

Castiel fought ferociously even trapped on his stomach, but his sword was wrested from his grasp. He squirmed as the demons crushed his head against the sulfurous floor, nearly choking him with the noxious dust and the heat of Hell's surface. From his position, Castiel couldn't even count the pairs of legs standing over him, nor see the mass of demons on his back as they pinned his limbs spread-eagle to the ground. Celestial steel pressed against his cheek to remind him that they had his blade.

"Gotcha now, halo," the demon snickered. "Alright, lads, get 'em to the throne room."

With a rush of displaced air and a sickening swoop, the rocky ground disappeared to be replaced by a smoother, flagstone floor.

The hands didn't let go, hauling him up. Castiel stumbled as they yanked him forward before he'd found his footing.

"Dean?" he yelled in desperation when he couldn't immediately see his friend. If the demons separated them, if they took Dean away…

"Cas!"

The angel could have wept with relief at the sound of Dean's voice, as well as the struggle he was clearly putting up. Castiel wanted to try smiting the demons again, but they had his angel blade… they would kill him before he could summon the necessary power. Castiel yanked and fought against the merciless hands forcing him along, through the chamber to whatever awaited them.

…

"Wait, go back for a second," Meg interrupted, pulling away from Castiel long enough to stare at him with a growing smirk. "Dean actually said that?"

The angel raised his eyebrows. "Said… what?"

"I'm good for you? Dean Winchester. Gave his approval to a demon. We talking about the same Dean?"

Castiel could barely hold back his amusement, shaking his head at her priorities. "You realize in this story, Dean and I have both just been captured."

"Right, we're about to get back to you being chained up again. Believe me, I've been quivery with anticipation." Meg's eyes twinkled as she gave him a wink. "And I'm sure I'll be having good dreams tonight, if you know what I mean. But I want to hear the part where Dean said he's glad I came back again. Also… did  _you_  really say that about me?"

Distracted from the thread of his story, Castiel brushed his hand through Meg's hair, carding it with gentle fingers. "Mm-hmm," he murmured, a low rumble in his chest.

"Ugh, sickeningly sweet," she retorted, but she rested back down against Castiel with her head on his shoulder, and he knew she didn't really think so.

"After all," he reminded her, "it's true. I remember the angels, that day."

For a second, Meg stiffened and remained silent. Then, softly: "Me too."

…

 _Cas was hard to keep up with now that he was no longer confined to the ward._ With the Leviathan still on the loose, the Winchesters out trying to stop them, and Crowley only  _very_ tenuously agreeing to leave the angel alone—for now—Meg felt the razor edge of the knife they walked on. At any moment, everything could tip one direction or another, but she and Cas were in limbo until the fate of the world was decided.

Strictly speaking, Meg was under no obligation to keep up with the crazy angel anyway. The agreement had been for her to keep enemies away from Cas while he was in a coma. She had done that. No one had asked her to continue babysitting him, and now that the angel was awake and capable of fending for himself, Meg was in the clear.

And yet here she was.

Panting slightly, Meg stormed over to where Castiel was stretched out on his stomach in a grassy field. His chin was propped up on his hands, eyes soft and distant as he stared at something on the ground in front of him. As Meg approached, she realized it was a line of ants.

"Clarence, this has got to stop," she snapped. "I left for  _five_ minutes and you disappeared."

"Oh, Meg!" Cas exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder to beam up at her. "You're here! Come look at this. How industrious the little insects are, how well they work together."

Rather than hurl back a waspish retort, Meg checked her annoyance. It would accomplish nothing but hurt Castiel's feelings; certainly it wouldn't stop him from wandering off whenever the mood struck. Besides, he seemed genuinely delighted at the bugs.

…and her presence.

Lowering herself down onto the grass beside Cas, Meg eyed the ants and imagined squashing them all one by one.

"Yeah, they're great," she offered. She couldn't deny the glow in Cas's eyes at her agreement was sort of worth it.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if everything worked as well as them?" Castiel posited. "Imagine what incredible things could be accomplished. I know the angels-" He broke off, then hung his head with a sigh.

Meg watched him, waiting. She had a feeling she knew where the sudden sadness was coming from. When Cas didn't go on, she said, "If you're that worried about the angels, you could just… I don't know, go say you're sorry or something. That's a typical 'good guy' kinda move, isn't it?"

Castiel's head drooped even more, voice low enough that Meg had to lean in to hear him.

"It wouldn't help. The devastation I caused… an apology will heal nothing. And even if I were brave enough to go say it, they wouldn't listen. They- they hate me. And rightly so." Castiel sighed again and said even softer, "Besides, I can't go back there. If I did, if I saw the fields of Heaven covered in the angel blood I spilled… I think I would kill myself."

It was so matter of fact that even Meg shuddered, looking away. Damn. That was serious, coming from the tree-topper. Okay, so things were bad.

"Well, don't go back, then," she said.

"I  _can't_ fight, Meg. I can't cause that kind of destruction again. It would finish me. Do you think Sam and Dean are still mad at me? Because I don't want to fight?"

Meg clenched her fists in the grass at the forlorn question, still irritated with those two. She wanted to assure Cas that of course they weren't angry, knowing that was what he wanted to hear, but she had no idea what the humans were thinking or feeling. She shrugged. " _I'm_ not mad at you."

Cas looked up, meeting her eye with a slight smile, which was something. "I know. I'm very happy about that."

Jerking her gaze away, Meg returned her attention to the ants on the ground. She wasn't blind. Cas was being so sweet to her, so trusting, so delighted in her attention. It made no sense, and while Meg wasn't big on following rules, this was one she'd never expected the intense, intimidating angel to break.

Obviously it was nothing but a product of his state of mind, she reminded herself. And it wasn't like she returned the sentiment. Well… not really. True, it was an unexpectedly pleasant change for someone to have such a guileless attachment to her, and for that someone to be an angel like Castiel, no less.

Fierce, loyal Castiel. He might be refusing to fight, might be acting a little odd in his current endearing, childlike nature, but she could still see his true form, and it was… Meg took a deep breath and fanned herself, trying to keep focused.

But she'd let her guard down just long enough, and by the time she heard the wingbeats, it was too late. Meg jumped up and watched warily as three angels appeared in front of them.

"Castiel," the one in the middle sneered. His eyes roved up and down with palpable scorn. "The traitor. Keeping company with the demon whore now. How far you've fallen."

Still prone on the ground—damn it, why did he insist on remaining so vulnerable?!—Castiel peered up at the three angels with uncertainty. He slowly pushed himself up and clambered to his feet.

"Brothers?" he asked, holding up his hands. "I- please, if I could just explain-"

He was cut off when the angel who'd spoken flew forward and slammed the pommel of his blade into Cas's head, sending him reeling back down to the ground.

"Hey!" Meg started forward, but froze when the other two angels turned to her with weapons raised.

"Get up, coward!" the other angel snarled as Cas watched him with achingly baffled eyes. "We're taking you back to Heaven for punishment, but first we're going to have it out right here. By all means, don't come quietly."

"But- Jophiel, I- I don't want to fight you," Cas protested, scooting backwards away from the angel bearing down on him. "I can't. You're my  _brother_ , and I've- I've already hurt too many _._ "

Jophiel's eyes bulged with rage as he pointed the blade at Cas. "Get up and fight! Don't think your  _cowardice_  will buy you mercy from me!"

Meg made her decision in a split second. "Cas, go!" she growled, leaping between the angels and Cas with her own stolen angel blade at the ready. "Get outta here."

"Meg-"

"I said, go. Now, Clarence." Three angels; it was terrible odds, but Meg had faced worse. Maybe if she'd asked Cas to fight back, manipulated him into doing it "for her", he would have, but it was obvious that it would destroy him. He could have finished them off without breaking a sweat, her angelic champion, but Meg couldn't ask him to.

"Demon whore," Jophiel said, smirk widening. "You're hideous. And where is your master, the Adversary? Beaten. You're all alone, and ridding the world of your meaningless filth will be doing everyone a favor." He sneered. "Not that any will notice the loss of one festering sore."

Meg's eyes narrowed, never losing an ounce of her cool because she had trained herself too well to let absolutely nothing through. So if the angel's words stabbed her to her core, they would never know.

"Go on, Cas," she tossed over her shoulder. "I'll take care of this myself." So that he wouldn't have to.

The three angels traded amused looks, then started to fan out. Cas still hadn't flown away, but Meg heard him climbing back up to his feet. She crouched.

"So who's first?" she challenged recklessly.

They converged in a flurry of wings, the burning, wrathful eyes of their true forms promising death. Meg stood her ground, slashing out with the blade to parry one of their strikes. Everything in her screamed to flee, but Cas was still behind her and if she left then they would kill him. Or worse, drag him back to Heaven to be tortured. Why wouldn't he run, damn it?

Meg cried out as one of her opponents scored a long gouge down her shoulder. She couldn't keep her eyes on all three at once when they were surrounding her. She sliced out again, the four moving in a lethal dance of parries and blows. Still, Cas hadn't run.

"I'm curious," Jophiel murmured as his free hand shot out and grabbed a chunk of Meg's hair. She yelled in pain as he dragged her in, one of the other angels capturing her wrist before she could lash out with the blade. Jophiel's eyes burned into hers as he finished, "If Castiel won't fight to save himself, I wonder if he would fight to save his whore?"

"Jophiel, no, please!" Cas cried out as they held Meg fast. "Don't hurt her!"

"Try and stop me," Jophiel hissed.

Squirming, Meg growled through gritted teeth, "Just run, Clarence." She saw the hesitation in his eyes, saw him wavering. Her glower deepened. "Cas…  _no_. You don't want to fight anymore, so  _don't_. I'm not worth it."

"True," Jophiel snickered. "But what does 'Cas' think about that?"

Castiel charged without warning. He was so fast that Meg didn't see him move, only felt it when something grabbed her free hand and pulled. She was ripped away from the other angels, shouting in pain as strands of hair were yanked out from Jophiel's grip. Meg shrieked in surprise, clinging to Castiel as she realized they were flying— _very_ different from teleportation. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the disorienting currents of the ethereal slipstream, not opening them again until she felt solid ground beneath her feet.

"What the hell!" she shouted, stumbling away from Cas as he watched her with worried eyes. "What was that? Why didn't you run when I said to, you idiot?"

"Why did you want me to leave?" he returned, head tilted as he examined her. "You didn't want me to fight for you."

"Because I'm not worth it," she snapped again, reaching a hand to her tender scalp. "You should have run." Meg paused. "Why didn't you?"

The angel stepped towards her, hand falling on her shoulder—also sore from being wrenched into the ether. "But… but you  _are_ worth it. I don't want to fight," he said, solemn as ever. "But I couldn't leave you to die. Friends don't… they shouldn't leave each other."

Meg eyed her champion, head clearing from the immediate shock. "Is that all we are? Friends?" she asked bluntly. The question seemed to throw him.

"What else is there?"

This was insane… was she trying to  _seduce_ an angel?

Yes, Meg realized. She still didn't understand it, but Meg knew what she wanted. She closed the distance, gaze fixed on that incredible, blazing true form. "You saved my life," she murmured. "A little something for the pizza man."

_Closing her mouth over his, Meg surrendered to whatever this insanity was._


	4. And an Evil Villain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, to catch you up: this chapter begins immediately after the first scene in chapter 1, so we pick up where Cas left off that part of the story, with Crowley. Again, I needed Crowley as a villain, so if he seems a little out of character evil, it's because he is! Sorry, Crowley. :P
> 
> But on that note, this is where the whump starts, but only a teensy little bit is anything actually physical. So no warnings for blood or gore! Crowley's taking a different approach...

"Angel, if you only knew the tortures I have in store for you."

Crowley's hand pressing Castiel's head down made the angel's shoulders ache horribly, with his wrists bound behind him and pulled high into the air, secured to the stone pillar in the throne room of Hell. Even once the demon let go, relieving some of the pressure, he was still stuck in an uncomfortable forward bow. Castiel could only grit his teeth and glare up at the King of Hell. He wouldn't give Crowley the satisfaction of appearing intimidated or frightened, even in the face of torture.

Crowley smirked. "Breaking you is going to be a delight. Oh yes, the physical torture will be satisfying… but with how superior you cloud-hoppers find yourselves, it's your pride I can't wait to beat down."

Hence this infuriating position, Castiel noted again with frustration. But still, he could not let the demon win.

"Talk about pride," Dean snapped, also scowling at Crowley, "Or ego, in your case. You really just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

"You know, I can't thank you enough for showing up as well, Dean," Crowley returned mildly, gesturing towards a waiting demon. "I only wanted Cas, but you really are the unexpected icing on the cake. Taming the angel would have taken forever, otherwise."

"Leave him out of this," Castiel immediately growled, struggling against the chains as a demon came forward to stuff a strip of cloth into Dean's mouth, tying it off behind his head to gag him. Though Dean made it as difficult as possible, he was soon silenced.

Crowley only smiled with ominous satisfaction. "Now, then. Avert your eyes from me, angel."

Castiel frowned. Was the demon joking? He glared resolutely at his enemy despite the crick in his neck.

"I said…  _avert your eyes_ ," Crowley demanded. "You belong to me now and you will keep your eyes down with every ounce of humility you can muster."

Dean snarled something into the gag, but Castiel nearly laughed. "You can't be serious. I don't 'belong' to you. And if you think you can torture me any worse than I've already been-"

"Giselle, darling," Crowley interrupted him, speaking to the demon in charge who had brought them there. "Do fetch that poker, will you?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. If he couldn't handle being prodded with sharp objects, he would have broken long ago. He watched coolly as the female demon hurried forward with a wicked grin, brandishing a long iron rod. The end of it glowed red-hot with the embers of Hellfire, evil and unforgiving. The angel hid his uncertainty, but the façade fell into open horror when the demon shoved it not towards him, but Dean.

"Crowley-"

"Alright, Giselle, we're going to play a game," Crowley said with a smug expression. "Watch the angel carefully. If he even  _once_ lifts his eyes… take one of Dean's."

"What? No!" Castiel gasped, as Dean frantically tried to jerk away. The burning poker hovered in front of the human's face, reflecting in his horrified gaze.

"Let's see some humility, Castiel," Crowley suggested, motioning for the other demons to come closer until they stood in a watchful circle. Of course he would want them to witness his ability to "tame" an angel.

With all eyes zeroing in, and knowing Crowley would make good on his threat, Castiel gave him one final, baleful glower before stonily turning his gaze to the floor.

"It changes nothing," he snapped as his face heated with anger. "I will still see you dead."

"Mm-hmm. Giselle, darling, another game… if the angel speaks unless commanded to do so, shove that poker into Dean's mouth and burn out his tongue."

NO! Castiel didn't dare make a sound, but he lunged forward against his bonds with silent outrage. He could go nowhere, furious moisture pricking the corners of his eyes at his helplessness when the other demons snickered. He shouldn't have allowed Dean to accompany him here,  _damn_ it!

Crowley's shiny dress shoes stepped closer into Castiel's line of sight, as the demon chuckled softly.

"So be a good boy, eh?"

Fuming, wary of answering with Dean's safety in such a precarious position, Castiel glared at the floor. The hunter was trying to say something, but the furious sounds couldn't make it past the gag. Castiel wished he would stay silent, to not draw attention to himself.

"Now," Crowley exclaimed, clapping his hands in obvious delight at the angel's predicament, "since I've already gotten you to behave so obediently, and my, that was fast, let's see if you know your place yet. Who am I?"

"The next demon on my list," Castiel seethed.

"Ah, exactly what I would expect from you, but not the right answer. Giselle, give Dean a few good marks with that, would you?"

"No!" Castiel shouted, struggling harder. "Crowley, don't-"

A fierce hand gripped his hair, voice menacing as Crowley hissed, "You're speaking out of turn, angel. Do you want Dean to take the punishment?"

It took all of Castiel's effort to calm down, knowing he was endangering his friend by remaining rebellious. Taking a deep breath, he growled, "No."

"No… Your Majesty."

"No, Your… Majesty."

"Ooo, I do like that," Crowley murmured as the surrounding demons snickered again. "But we can do better. How about… Master?"

Castiel's mouth clamped shut, chest heaving with rage at the demon's audacity. He should have expected this from Crowley, but to lower himself  _that_ much… Still, they were only words.

Crowley's grip tightened. "Let's get real, Castiel. Maybe you wouldn't say it to save yourself, but we both know there's not a thing you wouldn't do to protect Dean Winchester. You'll degrade yourself,  _happily_ , to save his life. So… I asked if you wanted Dean to take the punishment."

How it burned, with all eyes on the angel whose only viable option was to keep his head bowed and growl, "…No…"  _Damn it._ "Master."

Castiel felt the hand in his hair release, then the demon took a few steps back. Still, Castiel didn't raise his eyes. He could only imagine the words Dean was currently using, had he not been gagged.

"I know you don't mean it," Crowley assured Castiel, ignoring the hunter. "Not yet. But you will. I'm going to strip that pride away until you have nothing left, until you're just my prized angel pet."

Castiel jerked against his bonds, but didn't speak or lift his head. Crowley chuckled.

"Defiance. How…  _Castiel_  of you. Giselle, I think he understands the risk to darling Dean. Why don't you give my pet angel a little taste of what Dean will suffer, should he get too bold?"

There was no time to prepare as the heated poker was thrust towards his face and pressed into his cheek. Despite his determination to offer Crowley as little satisfaction as possible, Castiel couldn't fully bite back the tortured sounds that ripped from his throat as Hellfire seared his flesh and his true form. He tried to yank away, but in this position he had no avenue of escape from the cruel brand burning his face. Castiel's vision exploded into white-hot bursts of agony, overwhelming even his senses.

Then, it was gone. Castiel hung forward in the chains, heaving and shuddering with pain.

"Do shut up, Squirrel," Crowley advised, when the human continued to shout furiously into the rag. "Castiel, I haven't touched him yet. Maybe you want to keep it that way, or maybe your pride is worth more to you than he is. Let's find out, shall we? Who am I?"

Castiel's cheeks grew hot, but not just from the poker he'd been marked with.  _They were just words._ Swallowing back his self-respect and his pain, he muttered towards the floor, "My… master."

"And you are?"

 _The angel who's going to wipe the floor of Hell with your face,_ Castiel thought with a livid shudder. Forgetting himself, he started to tilt his head up to fix his furious glare on Crowley.

"Ah, ah! Eyes down, look humble," the demon snapped, waiting until Castiel had done so before he finished, "Answer the question. I'll give you a hint… The correct answer is, 'your pet angel'. Although I would also accept 'your humble slave'."

 _Just words._ Though each syllable tasted like poison, Castiel thought of Dean and ground out, "Your… pet… angel."

"Good boy. Ah, one more thing, pet."

With his gaze on the floor, Castiel couldn't see what was happening, but heard another demon hurrying towards Crowley, and then Dean leveling more muffled curses at them. So, nothing good. The angel braced himself as Crowley squatted down in front of him, holding something out.

Seeing what the demon had procured, Castiel felt his face flush scarlet with fury and mortification at this new element in Crowley's power play.

"My pet angel needs a collar," Crowley explained cheerfully. "Do you want to wear this? Oh, and… obviously… the correct answer is 'yes, Master'."

There was an excited murmuring and a few titters from the surrounding demons, which somehow made the situation all the worse. Castiel eyed the collar—metal, with spikes protruding outwards—and imagined using it to gouge out Crowley's eyeballs like he was threatening to do to Dean.

Continuing to keep his head bowed, Castiel set his jaw and muttered, "…Yes."

"Yes,  _Master_."

"…Yes, Master." And then he would have a ready weapon if Crowley got too close.

"Excellent."

Crowley's hands were rough as he fastened the hinged collar around Castiel's neck, the circle tight enough that it made breathing more uncomfortable. There was a hook in the front where a chain could be fixed, but there was no need to add the accessory, trussed as he was.

With the collar padlocked in place, Crowley stood, but didn't back away.

"Oh, Castiel," he murmured. "Servility really  _does_ look good on you."

He waited, but Castiel didn't rise to the bait, regardless of his overwhelming desire to fight back. Or to sink into the floor. When he didn't respond, Crowley went on,

"We'll be having visitors soon. Several high-level demons for a series of important meetings. I'm quite eager to show off my new trophies… should make for quite a showing. And you, Castiel, will do anything and everything I command, and in return, I'll make sure Dean stays off the rack. For now."

Beside Castiel, Dean stiffened with a sharp inhale. No matter what, the angel could not allow him to be returned to that torture; his own pride was nothing in comparison, though he realized with dismay that Crowley would milk the opportunity to demean and humiliate him as much as possible in front of the visiting delegations. But… Castiel would bear it, to buy Dean's safety.

"Now remember, not another sound unless I've given you permission to speak."

The shoes retreated, but Castiel still didn't dare look up, not when the human hung right next to him with the evil poker still poised to take an eye. Dean would be furious that he'd permitted Crowley to use him against Castiel, but the alternative was unthinkable.

Unable to move or speak, not daring to look around, Castiel could only hunch forward in his bonds, and wait.

…

Castiel paused, already unsure if he should have shared so many of the details of his captivity. To be gawked at like a zoo exhibit while he was helpless to protect himself or Dean, to be forced to refer to  _Crowley_ as his master—especially as a performance for the visiting upper-level demons—Castiel would almost prefer the more overt tortures of his kin. And he'd given in so easily. What… what would Meg think? She'd seen Crowley's set-up, of course, but to hear the story now… maybe he shouldn't have told her what had happened.

Meg had fallen still, tense in his arms, but she pulled away from him suddenly. For a moment, Castiel's heart clenched, but then she was struggling to sit up so that she could twist more fully towards him. Meg's eyes burned with a cold, dark light as she caught either side of Castiel's face in her hands.

"Good thing I was already planning on killing him," she said, normally even voice now taut with anger as she tilted Cas's head with a surprisingly ginger touch. Her eyes narrowed on the burn still evident on his cheek—Hellfire was not so quickly healed.

"It could have been much worse," he pointed out, comforting her with a smile. "And Dean was spared, that's what matters. I'm no worse for wear."

Meg snorted, then suddenly shifted around even more so that the blanket was pushed aside. She swung a leg over Castiel, straddling his lap and leaning in.

"Crowley is going to die," she purred, brushing her lips against the mark on his cheek. He couldn't help but jolt with a soft inhale—not from pain, but from surprise at the pleasant, simmering heat of her skin. "But you should know, when  _I_ tie you up, I'm gonna treat you so…  _so_  much better."

Castiel cleared his throat, glancing at the ceiling. "I- I'm not sure you're up to something so… physical. You're still healing…"

A puff of breath from her soft laugh ghosted over the now heated mark. Meg straightened up again, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"That's your only protest? I  _was_  just teasing you, but now I'm starting to think more seriously about it. Out of curiosity, how much  _exactly_ did the pizza man teach you?"

This really wasn't the right time for that, so Castiel merely ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flush, and guided her off of his lap. She snickered again, as always seeming to delight in leaving him pleasantly flustered. Meg scooted back down to lie next to Castiel.

"Now I'm wishing I'd gotten there sooner, though," she murmured as one hand found Castiel's and traced fiery patterns over his palm. "Me and Sam figured something had gone wrong…"

…

 _If Sam didn't sit still for two minutes, Meg was going to cut his legs off._ Bad enough that Cas and Dean had insisted on this rescue mission in spite of  _every_ sign that it was a trap, but now she had to deal with Sam's nerves and angst on top of it.

"Okay, it's getting old, Sammy," she said coolly, leveling a glare his direction.

The enormous Winchester just glared back at her and strode another circuit around the clearing. "It's been over an hour," he snapped. "Which is even longer in Hell."

"Oh, good thing you were here to tell me that," Meg retorted. She rolled her eyes. "I mean, I only lived there. You know… being a demon and all."

"If you're just going to make smart remarks, I could let you wait in the dungeon!"

Meg frowned but didn't point out that he'd brought the remark on himself. She leaned back against the tree, wondering if there was any means of contacting Cas. She wasn't exactly the praying type, and doubted it would reach him in Hell anyway. But what if he needed help and she was just sitting on her ass?

"You know," Sam went on, suddenly spinning towards her with a narrowed gaze, "it's funny how this happened right after  _you_ showed up."

Tilting her unimpressed glare his direction, Meg shot back, "Yeah. Hilarious. What's funnier is you thinking that after  _everything,_ I would give him to Crowley now. Seems like if I wanted Cas dead, I've had plenty of chances before this, wouldn't you say?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair with a soft curse, then dropped down to the leafy floor to lean back against a tree. He closed his eyes, seeming to take a great deal of effort to get a hold of himself.

"Sorry," he muttered. "You're right."

"Apology accepted."

They fell into silence for a moment, Meg continuing to regard the Winchester. "You know," she added, "you should be nicer to him."

Sam opened his eyes to frown at her. "Who? Cas? Look, no matter what you think, we actually do care about him."

Meg snorted, then crossed her arms. "Yeah, in your own way, you really do. But sometimes, you still kinda suck at it. Case in point… you're all hot and bothered over big brother and surrogate daddy being in Hell. But you didn't blink an eye at sending Cas into the lion's den."

"So you think I wouldn't be just as bothered if it was only Cas in danger?" Sam demanded.

Again, Meg just leveled an icy look in his direction. "Well, you  _weren't."_

The hunter stared at her like he'd been hit in the face, which was extremely gratifying.

Meg shook her head and looked away. "You left him," she said. "With nothing but a demon for protection. And yeah, I get it, you had to go save the world and he would have slowed you down. You don't have to explain. But don't tell me for one second that you wouldn't have dragged Dean behind you every step of the way, if it'd been him. He asked for you, Sam. Until I was sick of hearing it. Every five minutes, he wondered where you were, and if you were still friends, and whether you were mad at him, or how he could win you back. You know the one thing he didn't ask, ever?"

Waiting until he'd caught her eyes, Meg finished, " _Why_ you left. As far as he was concerned, he  _deserved_  to be turned away by yet another family. And you did nothing to change his mind, so don't even try it, Sam. I've seen you bothered. And that wasn't it."

He had the decency to look guilty, at least, but there was still a shade of denial in Sam's glower as he snapped, "Cas is my friend."

"Yeah, yeah. I know you think of Cas as a friend, Sam, but you sure as hell don't think of him as an angel. Unless you need something, of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Well, as long as she was unloading… Meg smiled grimly. "You know what your problem is? You're human. You don't see him the way I do."

"What-"

"Literally. His vessel, dumbass. When you look at Cas, all you see is his meatsuit. I see the real Cas, feathered Cas. An angel, his true form, in all its glory. You don't treat him like an angel, because all you see is the vessel, and you forget. If you could see him, just for a second, the way I do?" Meg scoffed and shook her head. "Trust me, you'd remember that he deserves more respect."

Another silence followed her outburst. When she looked back at Sam, the human seemed to have actually taken notice of her words, judging by his expression. But then, Sam always had been the less pig-headed of the two.

Finally, the hunter sighed. "I wish…" He trailed off, and Meg never did figure out what he wished.

At least he was sitting still now, but in the vacuum of energy, Meg was all the more aware of every passing second where her angel champion remained stubbornly absent. What could be taking so long? Either they were having difficulties finding Bobby, or… She didn't want to think that Crowley might have caught them after all.

Sam was right, though, there  _was_ a time conversion. By now, it was approaching a full day in Hell.

"Right," Meg said, pulling herself to her feet. "I've waited long enough."

Sam's head jerked up. "What-? Meg!"

"They should have been back by now. I'm just gonna poke my head in, see what's going on. If Crowley has an angel and a Winchester, it'll be all anyone is talking about."

Scrambling upright, Sam demanded, "Can you even get us inside?"

Meg paused. "Us?"

"That's my family in there," Sam snapped as he hurried closer to her as though she was about to do the angel thing of just flying downstairs. "If you're going, I am, too."

A refusal was on the tip of Meg's tongue, just on principal, but common sense won out. If she was going to Hell to rescue Cas and Dean, and maybe Bobby Singer, she was going to need help. She eyed the hunter, but his face was set with determination.

"Demons can't come and go that easy," she finally said. "Cas can fly right in, but we'll have to use a Gate."

"Great," Sam sighed. "I don't suppose you know of any."

Meg smirked and crossed her arms. "As a matter of fact, I do."


	5. But a Rescuer Waited in the Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed a little dialogue from the episode Taxi Driver here ^_^ Also quite a bit of canon divergence here.

Meg peered cautiously around the rocky crag, flooded with loathing at the scenery and the familiar air of Hell. Not even demons liked it here. Well… some did. But they were the more psychotic breed. Meg was many things, evil and vicious, but she had never gone as far as psychotic. Maybe given more time on the rack as a human soul, she would have emerged as truly insane as some of the others, but Meg was a pragmatist; she'd taken up the knife to save herself early on, which meant she hadn't been tortured to the extent that most others had been.

"Where are we?" Sam whispered from behind her, ducking as much as possible. He was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

Meg spared him a withering look. "Hell."

He returned the bitch-face, but she wasn't sure what more of an answer he expected. The exact mailing address of this rock they were crouched behind? The specific province they'd emerged in? The name of the demon in charge of the northern stronghold?

"How did you know about that Gate?" Sam persisted.

Meg shrugged. "Azazel needed ways to get to and from the human world. I was one of his closest followers. I know where his doorways were."

"Doorways, plural?"

"Bigger problems at the moment, Sam. With Azazel dead, I'm the only one who knows, anyway."

Meg eyed the long, low bunker not far away through the brambles. Unlike the soaring towers in the south, the northern prison was mostly underground, closer to the eternal fires at the core of the kingdom. Dean had been kept in the center of Hell, the most highly guarded and hardest for angels to reach. But if Crowley had something personal against Bobby Singer, this was the prison to keep him in.

But would Cas have known that? Would he have come here with Dean to look?

"Watch out," Sam hissed, pulling Meg down behind the outcropping. They pressed back against the rock, listening as two arguing voices approached.

"I'm telling you, we need to rethink this," one urged. "Taking on the King… maybe this isn't a good idea."

"What, you wanna follow that oaf forever?" the second snapped in reply. "Crowley's no leader. He-"

"You saw what I saw! I thought he was just a putz, but now? He enslaved an  _angel_. Not even the Knights ever managed that."

Sam jolted at the words, and Meg's heart sank. Just as she'd feared: Crowley had Cas after all. Damn it, she had  _warned_ them that this would happen. When this was all over, she was going to kill the Winchesters. But that would come later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was that Castiel was in trouble, and these two knew where he was being held and what Crowley was doing to him, and Meg was pissed.

Eyes narrowing, she ignored all sense of caution and rose to her feet, striding from their hiding place with single-minded intent. The angel blade was already in her hand, arching towards the demon closest to her and plunging into his heart with a blaze of light.

Taken by surprise, the remaining demon yelled and tried to stumble backwards, only to run into Sam as the hunter darted around to cut off his escape.

"Going somewhere?" the Winchester seethed, demon-killing knife already extended so that the demon nearly impaled himself on it.

The demon swiveled his head to look first at Sam and then Meg as she coolly wrenched the blade out of her first victim so that his body collapsed to the ground. His eyes flicked black, lips pulling up in a sneer.

"Winchester. And Meg. Crowley will love to see you two roasting on a spit."

"Your buddy there was saying something about an angel," Meg mentioned with a cold smile. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

"And why would I do that?" he retorted, eyes trailing up and down her form, sizing her up. His widening smirk seemed to find her lacking.

Meg didn't mind. Others had made that mistake before, too. Usually only once. She stepped in closer, heated fury making her nonchalance icier. "Because," she replied, cocking her head. "If you do, I'll finish you off nice and quick."

The demon barked in laughter, though was quickly cut off when Sam pressed his knife against its throat. "I'm not telling you anything," he croaked. "But that angel sure made a pretty sight."

"Tell us where they are!" Sam shouted, voice dropping to a menacing pitch. " _Now_!"

Meg's eyes shifted to liquid black as she motioned for him to hold the demon. Misjudging her had been a bad call, but taunting her about Cas was a worse one. "Don't worry," she murmured, smooth and easy. "I was Alastair's star pupil long before Dean. Give me five minutes."

Three minutes later, the demon was a sputtering mass of blood and righteous light as the angel blade mercifully ended his suffering, and they knew everything they needed. Meg wiped it clean on his shirt before straightening again with a determined glower.

Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair with trembling hands. "Cas," he murmured. "Meg, how fast can you get us there?"

"Hate to say it," she grumbled. "But we should get your friend first."

" _What?_ You heard what Crowley's doing-"

"And Crowley will die for it," Meg snarled. "But he's also more interested in breaking Cas than hurting him. That buys us a little time, because trust me, Castiel doesn't break easy." She sighed. "Once we spring Cas and Dean, there's not gonna be time to come back here for another rescue mission. That demon told us Bobby was definitely here, so it's either get him first, or don't get him at all. Frankly, he's not high on my priority list, but he  _is_ on Cas's, and the last thing I need is for Clarence to come  _back_ to Hell to try this again later."

From the tension in Sam's jaw and the barely controlled rage wafting from him that nearly knocked Meg over, she knew he was just as furious about the whole situation as she was. But surely he could see that she was right. And when had  _Meg_ become the voice of reason?

After a second, though, he nodded curtly in agreement.

Though she hated to leave Cas in his current predicament for even a second longer than necessary, knowing it would save him from future danger was enough to make Meg grab Sam by the arm in a bruising grip and shift through the Void into the deepest levels of the fortress nearby.

The bowels of the prison were unbearably hot, even for a demon. The sulfuric burn left Meg's eyes watering, so oppressive that heat seemed to drip from the very walls. Along with misery and regret and hopelessness. When Sam reached out to steady himself from the abrupt landing, his flesh sizzled where it touched the stone, forcing him to yank his hand away, scalded.

"Don't touch anything," Meg muttered, holding her weapon aloft. "Eyes sharp. We don't know how often the guards come through here."

Giving her a clipped nod, Sam also raised his knife in front of him as his eyes swept from side to side. Together, they started moving down the hall, peering into each cell as they went. Occasionally they were met with a long, low wail of a soul in despair, but for the most part, the inmates were eerily silent. Even in the crushing heat, Meg felt a chill. Most of these souls were almost ready to turn.

Sam gasped, dashing forward to a cell door on the left. "Bobby!" he exclaimed, reaching for the handle of the cell. Once again, he jerked back with a soft yelp of pain as it seared his palm.

"If  _you're_ the smart one, how does Dean even function?" Meg grumbled as she stormed over and used her demonic power to telekinetically throw the bolt open and wrench the door outward on its hinges. Sam didn't even rise to her jab as he raced into the cell.

"Bobby!" he called again, grabbing the husk of the grizzled hunter. He grunted as Bobby threw him backwards and turned a cold shoulder.

Meg frowned, appraising the prisoner. Crowley hadn't bothered to restrain Bobby like some inmates, and she didn't see any lash marks or really any injuries at all. Not that she was surprised; if Bobby was just bait, there was no need to waste resources on heavy duty torture.

"Bobby, it's me," Sam protested, trying to hurry forward again. _Again_ not seeming to learn his lesson.

Watching with narrowed eyes, Meg noted the anger in Bobby's face as he again whirled and threw his arms out to push Sam away.

"Just get out," the old hunter snapped. "And take  _her_ with you. I ain't buyin' what you're sellin', you black-eyed son of a bitch."

"What? Bobby, it's-"

"Yeah," Meg interrupted, storming forwards. "We don't have time for this. I'm sure the guards have been dressing themselves as you and Dean, so he's got no reason to believe you're really here."

"Well, aren't  _you_ the clever one, you little-"

Meg didn't wait for Bobby to finish his tirade. The guards wouldn't leave him alone for long, if the fact that he'd been unsurprised to see them barge in was any indication. Snagging his arm and Sam's once again, Meg simply transported all three of them back out to Azazel's Gate on the outskirts of the stronghold.

Immediately, Bobby pulled away from her and cast a suspicious, almost fearful eye at the new surroundings.

"What is this?" he snapped. "Trying out some new tactics, are you?"

"Bobby, listen," Sam urged as he held up his hands. "It's me! Okay, damn it. If it's not Sam… then how do I know all about you and Tori Spelling?"

Bobby squinted in clear suspicion. "What?"

"You're a fan," Sam explained. "Yeah. Or- or, uh… Okay. What about your free pedicure at the Mall of America? You made Dean swear to never tell another living soul how it changed your life."

Bobby gaped at him. "Sam?" His eyes filled with tears; grabbing Sam, he embraced the hunter like he would never let go.

"I'm gonna vomit," Meg muttered under her breath, shifting impatiently. Cas needed her,  _now._  She frankly didn't care if Bobby thought they were Crowley's goons or the real deal, but of course the Winchester would want to make this a tender moment.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Bobby said as they pulled apart—finally. "But you're the 200th Sam I've seen today. That's how they screw with me. Just endless Sams and Deans all wearing the same black eyes. But you," he added, swiveling towards Meg with narrowed eyes. "You're a new addition. Meg, isn't it? The demon bitch? The one who possessed Sam,  _and_  got me paralyzed?"

"Um… yeah," Sam replied as Meg's glare turned icier. "It's a long story-"

"One that Cas doesn't have time for," Meg snapped. "Or Dean."

Bobby turned back to Sam, eyes blown wide with obvious horror. "Wait a minute… please don't tell me it's what I think it is."

"We're all alive," Sam assured him, though his own jaw tightened at Meg's reminder of what was still at stake. "But Crowley has Dean and Cas. We came to get you."

"And now we have," Meg interrupted, unable to wait any longer. "Sam, get Bobby through the Gate. His soul should go straight on up to Heaven."

"While you do, what, exactly?" Bobby demanded as he pushed Sam farther behind him. "What's your angle?"

"You know what, you're welcome for the rescue, first of all," Meg growled.

"Yeah, I'm  _sure_ that was outta the kindness of your heart. Oh wait, you don't have one."

"Bobby-" Sam tried, but Meg stepped forward until she was toe to toe with the older hunter.

"You're right. I didn't come here for you. Maybe you missed what Sam said, but  _Crowley_ has Cas and Dean. They were trying to rescue you, and look where it got them. So. Sam, get him out, now. Or don't, but I gotta go."

She turned on her heel, starting to storm off as Sam called behind her,

"Wait! What're you gonna do?"

"I'm going after your brother," she snapped. Meg's heart clenched. "And my unicorn."

"Then we're coming, too."

The demon paused, glancing over her shoulder with a frown, but Sam appeared grim and serious. Her eyes flicked to Bobby, who returned her look with a tight nod.

"Don't know what the hell I've missed since I was gone," he grumbled. "But if Dean and Cas are here, we ain't gonna leave 'em."

Well… she could use all the help she could get. Meg nodded. "Alright. Then here's the plan." With that, she-

…

Meg paused, cutting off mid-sentence to twist in Castiel's arms so she could look up at him.

"Why am I the one telling the story now?" she asked. "You're supposed to be telling it to  _me_."

Castiel smiled, barely biting back a laugh. "I know. But once you got going, I didn't want to stop you. You have such a-"

"If you say 'soothing voice'-"

"-soothing voice."

Meg rolled her eyes and gave the angel a swat. He felt, more than saw, the brief glow of pleasure in her gaze, though.

"Whatever," she grumbled. "Anyway, it's your turn."

"It was very kind of you to rescue Bobby," he tried, but Meg rolled her eyes again.

"Didn't do it because it was kind, Clarence. Don't make the mistake of thinking there's anything more than a demon hiding in here. You know that, right?"

Castiel considered Meg for a moment. "I know what you are," he said, still smiling softly. "And I know what you've done."

She turned away from him at last, dropping his gaze. "Then why are we still doing this?"

"Because I know what you've done," Castiel repeated. "Because I see you. Because none of us are good all the time."

Meg snorted. "Are you really trying to feed me that 'every sinner has a future' line?"

"No." He didn't know what line she was talking about; the angel only knew that his heart was the only rule book he could trust anymore. "But whatever your reasons, I'm grateful that you rescued Bobby. And… that you came back for me." The angel paused, then pointed out, "It's starting to become a habit for you. And habits speak volumes. Don't sell yourself short, Meg. You fight for what you believe in. I haven't forgotten that."

She finally met his eyes again, and Castiel saw her true face, and everything it belied. Grimly, Meg nodded, and replied with one word:

"Purgatory."

…

 _It took Meg a little more than two minutes to determine that Dick Roman's death should not have been enough to kill Cas._  It took the better part of a year to figure out what must have actually happened and what to do about it.

Ajay, the rogue reaper, had taken a bit of convincing before finally telling her about Purgatory's escape hatch. Personally, Meg found Ajay repulsive, but he was her only contact who would have had the first idea what to do; she'd batted her eyelashes at far less savory characters to get what she wanted before.

The intel had been good. Meg sat with her back to a large boulder in the monster-infested realm, watching the space where the portal would appear once it sensed Dean close by. If only Crowley had known how easy it actually was to access the place, she thought with a sardonic snort. He would be sick over it. Shame it had never occurred to him to ask a reaper.

A stick snapped from somewhere nearby in the woods, and Meg's head whipped back around. She leaped to her feet, angel blade gripped tightly as she slid behind the boulder out of sight. Seconds later, the air began to crackle and pulsate. Meg straightened and allowed herself a grim smile as the escape portal appeared high up in the rocks in a burst of rippling, contorting light.

Finally, they'd made it.

From her vantage point, Meg watched as Dean did some kind of voodoo to merge some random vampire's soul into his own body—and what the hell was up with that, anyway? Cas stood behind them, watching their backs; Meg's shoulders slumped with relief to see that he was in one piece.

Once the vamp was out of the picture, Meg pushed her way out into the open, a light smirk starting to play across her face as Dean's eyes widened in dismay.

"Cas, Leviathan!" he shouted, raising his makeshift blade.

Meg's eyebrows rose. "Leviathan?" she drawled, unimpressed, as the angel whirled. "Really? I look like a chomper to you?" Turning to Cas, she offered him a wink. "Hiya, Clarence. What's an angel like you doing in a place like this?"

"Meg?" he gasped with a light frown. "But… how…?"

"Demons don't end up in Purgatory, Cas," the hunter snapped. He shifted his grip on his blade, crouching as though to attack. "It's not Meg."

Castiel's hand shot out to push Dean's weapon down, though his intense gaze was still focused on Meg. Something about him seemed different… "I can see her true face, Dean. It's her."

 _Wait_ … Meg's smile faltered as she suddenly realized what had changed. Cas's eyes were full of clarity, his stance more akin to the warrior she remembered from long ago rather than the childlike angel she'd protected in the ward. He was sane again.

 _Crap._ Meg swallowed against an oddly tight throat as she waited for his disgust, but the angel merely shook his head in clear disbelief.

"Meg, how are you here?" he asked. "Dean's correct. Demons, once killed, are gone for good."

"A reaper clued me in about this escape hatch for humans," she explained with a shrug. "Got me passage into Purgatory. But when I started asking questions, trying to find you, the monsters I ran across said you two and a vampire were already on your way here. So…" She shrugged again. So, she'd been unnecessary after all.  _And_ she'd be lucky if Dean let her escape with them.

Not to mention that Castiel was starting to look more and more uncomfortable, staring at her without saying a word. Meg didn't know why her heart was thumping so painfully; this was exactly why she'd reminded herself repeatedly that she didn't care.

Clearing her throat, Meg turned back to Dean. "Anyway, I see you don't need my help. I'll just-"

"It's been a year," Castiel cut her off, still staring.

Right. Long enough that she should have let go instead of hanging onto some fantasy like a starry-eyed schoolgirl. Meg closed her eyes, then opened them with a forced smile. "Yeah."

"You've… been looking for us all this time?"

Meg wasn't sure whether he was surprised or pitying, but she was spared needing to answer when several lines of smoke streaked out of the sky to land at the edge of the clearing. Dean and Castiel both whirled, eyes wide.

"Leviathan!" Dean shouted, scrambling up the rock pile towards the still glowing portal. "We gotta go! Cas, come on!"

The angel's eyes flicked to Meg once more, his discomfort all the more evident, before he sighed and turned to Dean. "Go," he ordered the hunter. "I'll hold them off."

Wait,  _what_? Dean and Meg both stared at Cas in dismay. The human had already stepped into the portal, and seemed unable to step out to come back down.

"Cas, no!" he yelled instead. "We can get out, just give me your hand!"

"Dean, I'm staying. You don't understand, I have to do penance! This was always the plan. I- I'm sorry."

"Give me your hand!" Dean cried again as he strained to reach Cas in futility, his terror so palpable that Meg's heart ached even more. "Cas, don't do this!"

The angel turned his shoulder to Dean, looking at Meg instead. Something unreadable swam in the blue depths, but it wasn't scorn. "Go with Dean," he murmured, surprisingly soft. "He'll get you out."

"You first."

Castiel shook his head, and his jaw tightened. "I deserve this."

"No! I'm not leaving you behind!" Dean shouted, as Meg just stared at the angel.

The one who had only ever acted out of love. The one who'd made mistakes, but for all the sickeningly right reasons. The one who'd fought for what he thought was good, no matter what the cost to himself. Meg shook her head.

"Yeah… you really don't. And it doesn't sound like Dean thinks you deserve it, either. So let's go, Clarence."

More shadowy shapes were descending as what seemed like every Leviathan in Purgatory had locked onto their location at last. Meg didn't break eye contact with Cas, but from her periphery she could tell that anyone who didn't escape out of Purgatory, right now, was going to die. There were too many to fight, and it was too late to retreat back into the woods.

"Meg,  _go_ ," Cas begged her, gesturing towards Dean. "Please! I don't want them to hurt you."

Huh. So he did still care, even sane.

Meg grabbed the angel's hand, then raised her blade towards the monsters. "I'll make this easy. Either you come with me… or I stay with you."

"Meg-"

"No."

This was crazy. Meg's heart thudded with fear, but there was no turning back. Before, she would have fled without a second thought. She was a survivor. But there was nothing waiting for her back on Earth; the only thing that had ever mattered to her was right here. Meg was a demon, but even demons needed a cause.

She had found hers.

"I'd rather fight for what I believe in," she finished, eyes locking on Castiel. And what she believed in was  _him_.

"Meg, there's no time!"

Her lips twitched; surprisingly, she felt calm. "Then you'd better decide fast."

"Cas," Dean begged, voice breaking. "Please."

Castiel held Meg's gaze, hesitating, but she didn't look away, knowing he'd be able to read her intent, her sincerity. He would know she wasn't bluffing… that she truly planned to die there with him if that was what he chose. The Leviathan were swarming ever closer, but still Meg didn't budge.

Damn… he really had changed her. Quite the rare creature, this unicorn.

Breaking eye contact at last, Meg turned back to the monsters and adjusted her hold on the blade, planning to go down swinging until she could fight no more.

But then, before the Leviathan could leap forward, Cas's hand in hers tightened and yanked backwards. His other stretched out to find Dean's.  _Together, they all disappeared into the portal as the Leviathan converged._


	6. To Save the Day and Tell the Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to check in with Cas and Dean and see what Crowley's up to... Only one more chapter after this, ah! Thanks again for all the sweet and thoughtful reviews. It really makes writing worth it :)

 

"Ah, Dromadus. So glad you could make it today."

"Crowley."

Castiel heard the approach of yet another demon of the upper echelon, along with whatever delegation it had brought along. This was the third of Crowley's meetings, and the angel knew by now what to expect. Sure enough, there was a pause, and then the visiting demon murmured,

"So, it's true. I heard you humbled an angel, but… I must admit, I find it difficult to believe."

"Ah, yes," Crowley agreed, his dress shoes walking into Castiel's permitted line of sight. "My newest acquisition. Not the easiest of pursuits, I can assure you. But its training is coming along nicely."

Castiel's face heated again and he swallowed back the fiery stabs of humiliation. He tried to focus on his gratitude that this Dromadus seemed uninterested in Dean—the hunter hung silently in his chains, left paralyzed by Crowley after he proved too much a distraction during the last meeting. Castiel wanted to glance over long enough to check on him, but didn't dare.

"For example," Crowley went on cheerfully. He kicked Castiel, digging a toe into his unprotected side. "Whose pet are you, angel?"

Castiel gritted his teeth, but forced himself through the now-familiar script. "Yours… your Majesty."

"That's right. I own you, don't I?"

Castiel shifted in his chains, wishing Crowley dead. He felt every eye in the court on him and knew it would only give Crowley more power, but what choice did he have? If he didn't play the game, Dean would end up on the rack. Castiel hung his head and spat out,

"…Yes, Master."

"Fascinating," Dromadus murmured. His footsteps echoed heavily in the brimstone chamber as he also approached Castiel, looming over the bound angel.

When the hand caught Castiel's chin, jerking his head up, the angel was careful to keep his eyes downcast instead of looking at Dromadus. The demon inspected him, taking the liberty of maneuvering Castiel's face in several directions to get a closer look. Castiel imagined stabbing him with his blade.

"Was this the one you aligned with in the quest for Purgatory? Castiel, wasn't it?"

"That  _was_  the name, yes," Crowley said coolly as Dromadus finally stood. "Hardly necessary now. It's just a slave."

"How strange it doesn't protest. I'd heard angels were a proud breed."

"I trained it not to speak unless I've allowed it," Crowley assured the visiting demon. "Had to break that habit early on. Tricky business, but I am the king, after all."

They circled him now, still inspecting, discussing him like he actually was some sort of domesticated animal rather than a sentient being. Despite Castiel's determination to protect Dean, he couldn't keep his shoulders from heaving with the deep breaths of his barely suppressed rage and mortification.

"I must say, I'm impressed, Crowley," Dromadus murmured, prodding Castiel with one foot. "I did not believe it possible. You can tell there's still a spark of defiance, but it remains obedient. Tell me… I have many souls in the southern tower. How many would you take for this angel?"

Castiel exhaled sharply as he bristled and yanked at the chains, unable to stop himself. He was to be  _bought_  and  _sold_  by demons? Like a  _commodity?_  His breaths came heavier now, too humiliated for words.

"Yes, still defiant," Crowley growled in warning. "Do you want me to get angry, slave?"

No. He knew the price, and it was more than he could pay, to see Dean suffer. Terrified he'd already cost Dean too much, Castiel forced down his outrage and fell still.

"No... Master," he whispered to the floor.

" _Most_ impressive," Dromadus exclaimed, footsteps making another circuit around the pillar to examine Castiel further.

"Indeed." Thankfully, Crowley sounded mollified. "However, I'm sorry to say, this one isn't currently for sale. It's personal, you understand. But come, Dromadus. To business. How are things in the southern regions?"

Crowley's shoes turned back towards the throne, though Dromadus hovered over Castiel a second longer before finally turning away. Castiel sagged, closing his eyes and trying to will the horrible feelings away, of being put on display and bartered over without being able to fight back. The other visiting demons had gawked and poked and marveled at his obedience, but none had offered to  _buy_  him before.

Castiel knew Dean was still conscious, though temporarily paralyzed; he was guiltily relieved, as he doubted the hunter would have taken kindly to Dromadus. The angel wondered suddenly if Dean was ashamed of him for the pitiful picture he made.

Thankfully, the rest of the meeting focused on business, Crowley clearly using Castiel's capture as evidence of his power, re-strengthening ties with his visitors. By the time Dromadus left—with one final, discomfiting inspection of the chained angel—his fealty to Crowley was noticeably improved.

"You did well, pet," Crowley congratulated, striding over to the stone pillars where Castiel and Dean were bound. "I do believe I have Dromadus back under control. Interesting offer he made, wasn't it?"

Castiel didn't respond, knowing he wasn't meant to. Besides, just thinking about it made his skin crawl.

Crowley chuckled. "Hmm. Maybe once you're fully broken and I've had my fun with you—and never fear, that won't be for a few dozen centuries or so—perhaps I'll sell you to Dromadus after all." A hand lashed out to clench in Castiel's hair, making him grunt in discomfort, as the demon stood over him. "Who knows? If Dromadus is willing to pay, surely others would be as well. I could offer you to the highest bidder. I wager you'd rather die than suffer the indignity of the auction block, eh?"

Castiel hated that his heated cheeks gave him away, confirming Crowley's assessment. He'd been brought low before, but  _this..._

But surely the threat was just to elicit a reaction; Crowley would never want to share ownership of Castiel. As he'd told Dromadus, it was personal. At least, Castiel hoped so.

Crowley shrugged and released his hold on the angel. "We'll see. For now, you belong solely to  _me._ But as I said, you did well. You've earned Squirrel some breathing room."

He was out of Castiel's sight now, but a second later, the angel heard Dean shifting in his chains as he was granted movement again, and then a soft gasp as the gag was removed. Castiel braced himself, waiting for the hunter's furious onslaught towards the demon horde.

To his surprise, Dean didn't start shouting, nor did he address Crowley at all. Instead, his voice was soft, almost cracking.

"Cas? Cas… please."

Castiel's neck twitched to look at his friend, remembering just in time to keep his head bowed instead. The female demon was still holding that blasted poker too close to Dean's face. Crowley made a sound of approval at his silence, but Dean's voice broke even more.

"Don't let him do this to you.  _Please_ , Cas, I'm not worth this, you understand me? This is my fault.  _I_ dragged you down here. So whatever happens to me, I deserve it, but  _you_  don't. You hear me? Cas!"

Though Castiel wanted nothing more than to assure his friend that Dean did  _not_ deserve torture, that even now the angel didn't regret coming to look for Bobby, he couldn't. If he spoke out of turn, they would only punish Dean, and then everything he'd already let them do to him would be meaningless. Castiel shifted, but didn't look at his friend or answer.

" _Damn_ it, fight back! I don't care what they do to me! I would rather be  _dead_ then let anyone 'own' you. I can't watch you be treated like this. I can't watch you  _let_ them! Don't let him use me to hurt you more than I already have. Please."

The words cut through to Castiel's heart, but still he didn't speak—only closed his eyes. Did Dean still not understand there was nothing Castiel wouldn't do to protect him, nothing he wouldn't refuse? Not even slavery to the King of Hell.

The cracking echoes of a slow clap made him tense as Crowley shifted back to him.

"Excellent," the demon exclaimed. "I knew Dean would be the one to break you. You're making such good progress, perhaps we'll move on to the torture sooner than I expected."

Crowley grabbed Castiel's collar by the metal loop in front and yanked the angel forward a few inches so that his arms felt ready to dislocate. Castiel grunted softly but didn't protest. Torture would be a welcome reprieve from  _this_.

As though hearing his thoughts, Crowley seethed, "On the other hand, why rip you open so soon? First I'll parade you through Hell on your hands and knees so that  _every_ demon can witness the true strength of their king."

"Cas,  _fight_ him!" Dean shouted, voice colored with desperation.

"Of course," Crowley went on, ignoring Dean, "we've got the chains, we've got the collar… but to complete the picture of my angel slave, we still need the wings."

Castiel felt his heart stop, going rigid in Crowley's grip. Not even the thought of being sold to Dromadus could compare to such horror.  _No…_

"Crowley, you son of a bitch! Cas, don't you  _dare_!"

"Those sigils won't let you  _use_ your wings, but I bet just shifting them here would be no problem."

Except they would burn, probably down to bare bone. Hell was painful enough for his wings without being manifested… but to bring them out… Castiel swallowed, knowing that agony would be worse than any torture he'd endured yet. Mutely, he shook his head.

Crowley only chuckled. "Ah, Feathers. It might have taken me centuries to find a way to physically force those wings out. But I don't need to, do I? I have Dean."

"Cas,  _no_! Please,  _please_ just let them have me. I- god, I've done enough damage, don't you add this to the list now." This time, Dean's voice broke fully, cracking in agony as he finished, "Don't make me watch this. Not this. I- I can't live with myself knowing I… Cas, I'm  _begging_  you, don't do this."

The sheer terror in his voice was even harder to bear than Castiel's own fear as Crowley took a step back.

"Show me your wings."

"Cas,  _please!_ "

The sudden blaring of an alarm made him jump, Castiel's head jerking up for the first time to see the horde of demons looking wildly around. His forced humility was momentarily forgotten as screams echoed from the other side of the heavy door at the far end of the chamber. The alarm ended abruptly; all eyes were locked on the door.

A second later, it exploded open, a burned out husk of a demon flying through the entrance to land in a sizzling heap in the center of the cleared out space.

Meg sauntered through the door, flipping an angel blade as her face lit with a dark, furious smile.

For a moment, no one moved. Castiel gaped, openly bewildered, but with the vague notion that maybe he shouldn't be all that surprised that Meg had stormed the Throne Room of Hell itself to find him. Fear gripped his heart then, as he registered the lone demon coming to a halt amid what amounted to a small horde of enemies.

"Meg," he whispered, forgetting not to speak. No one commented on it, the demon tasked to guard Dean too busy staring at the newcomer.

Twirling the blade into an overhand grip and sinking into a crouch, Meg's dark smile deepened as she growled,

"You've got something of mine, Crowley. I want him back."

"Get her! I want her alive!" Crowley snarled, raising his hand to point. The movement seemed to break the spell holding the demon army transfixed, and they surged in on Meg. She disappeared under the sea of punches and jabs.

"Meg!" Castiel shouted, frantically fighting to break free from the chains that bound him. He could see bright spurts of light emanating from the seething mass where she was stabbing demons left and right with the angel blade. But it would never be enough. What had she been  _thinking_?

"Get her, you incompetent sots!" Crowley demanded over the sound of the melee.

A cry rang out, piercing Castiel's heart as he recognized the sound of Meg in pain. He struggled all the harder, to no avail. Even the demon guarding Dean had hurried forward in anticipation of victory, all eyes on Meg as the swarm finally parted.

Dean cursed softly, but Castiel couldn't make a sound as he saw her, held by a dozen demons, dripping blood from numerous gashes. Her weapon had been wrenched away. The feisty demon spat out a glob of blood, glaring up at Crowley as the king swaggered closer now that it was safe for him to do so. Castiel's blade was in his hand.

"Cas," a soft voice whispered from behind him, so sudden and unexpected that the angel jerked violently in his bonds. Sam! "Shh. I'm gonna get you out."

Castiel nodded, recovering quickly as he glanced back as much as he could. With all the attention on Meg, no one noticed the tall hunter squatting down beside the imprisoned angel and starting to work on the manacles. And on his other side… Castiel's eyes widened but he didn't make a sound.

"Bobby!" Dean mouthed, staring at the grizzled man as Bobby put a warning finger to his lips. Together, Bobby and Sam worked at both their manacles while Castiel bit his lip and shifted his gaze back to Crowley and Meg.

"There you are," Crowley growled, looming over Meg. "You whore." He slashed out with the blade, and though Castiel couldn't see the strike land from his vantage point, he heard Meg scream in pain.

His fists tightened.

"Thought I'd just forget about you?" Crowley taunted. This time he raised his hand, clenching hard and twisting. The sound of breaking bone echoed through the chamber, chased by another tortured scream. "Thought I'd forget how you stood against me?"

The manacles around Castiel's wrists came loose, Sam carefully setting them on the floor so that they wouldn't clatter. The angel lowered his arms slowly and twisted his head side to side as feeling returned with a pulsing ache. Without the sigils, his grace could finally start to collect itself, easing out the soreness. His eyes continued to follow Crowley as Sam now began to work on the chains at his ankles.

"Did you think," the king of Hell continued to rage, punctuating each word with another slice or blow, "I would just… forget… about… my… revenge?"

Free at last as the final cuff was loosened, Castiel rose to his feet. He could see Meg now, shuddering and doubled over with agony from horrific wounds on her face and body. Thunder gathered in the angel's heart as his gaze zeroed in on Crowley, the one who had hurt her, the one who had threatened Dean, the one who had put him in this infuriating collar and tried to convince him that he was something to be "owned".

Meg's eyes flicked black, and through the tormented gasps, she suddenly began to laugh.

"No. But there  _is_ something you've forgotten," she wheezed.

"Oh? Pray, do tell."

She leaned up towards him, dark and devastating. "You don't screw with Castiel."

To his credit, Crowley caught on immediately, whirling around just in time to see Castiel raise a hand.

Righteous light and fury flared back to life throughout Castiel's being, flooding his eyes so that they burned bright with the power of his grace. The female demon who had been tasked to punish Dean for any of Castiel's perceived disobedience was also the one standing closest, and couldn't react in time to save herself.

Her shrill scream rose high in the stone chamber as her body flashed and then crumpled under his smiting force, eye sockets sizzling when she hit the floor.

Castiel snagged the poker, still hot with Hellfire, as the demon fell, then turned his blazing glare towards the stunned horde.

"Meg," he growled, tone deadly enough that the majority of the demons started to shift backwards. "Shut your eyes."

She ducked her head and squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Most of those who'd been holding her down were among the crowd now trying to back away from the angel, allowing Meg to cover her head in an extra layer of protection, and so Castiel raised his hand again.

Crowley had  _dared_ think he would make Castiel into a pet? A slave?

All of Castiel's fury exploded outward in a concussive force of grace, leveling the first several rows of demons without him even needing to lay a hand on them. They fell, sibilant hisses of steam still rising from empty eye sockets, and finally the chamber erupted into chaos.

"Get them!" a demon shouted from somewhere, as part of the swarm converged towards Castiel and the rest either fled or tried to rush around him to where Bobby and the Winchesters were. A gunshot cracked and echoed, muffled shouts telling him that Sam had brought the devil's trap bullets, in addition to the demon killing knife he always carried. He glanced over his shoulder long enough to see that Dean was free, carrying the gun, and all three were in fighting stances.

Trusting them as seasoned warriors to hold their own, Castiel whirled back to his own targets and swung the poker he held like a club as he fought to get closer to Crowley. The king was prudently backing his way through the demons, glaring at Castiel and clutching his stolen angel blade. None of the demons trying to recapture the angel could even get close enough to lay hands on him. The poker wasn't as efficient as his traditional weapon, but when swung with the force of an angel, was enough to crush skull and spine.

"Clarence! Blade!"

Felling another demon who'd gotten too close, Castiel chanced a look in Meg's direction. Even though Crowley had wounded her badly enough that she had to pull herself across the floor, the indomitable demon had managed to reclaim her own weapon from the one who'd taken it, grappling him to the ground and running him through. Now, she held up the blood-soaked blade and tossed it towards Castiel.

He dropped the poker, caught the sword in mid-air, and turned back towards his enemies.

They fled.

Just as well, Castiel thought with rage. They weren't the ones he was determined to kill, at any rate. But when he swiveled back to where Crowley had been standing, he found only empty air. Had the coward run away with the rest of the demons? Castiel's eyes narrowed.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, as a warning went off in the angel's senses.

He spun away, just in time to deflect what would have been a killing blow, but not soon enough to evade Crowley completely. The blade grazed his arm, flooding the chamber with the white glow of grace and loosening his grip. Castiel grunted in pain as his weapon fell from his hand.

"You mangy feather duster," Crowley growled. He flung an arm out, knocking Castiel off his feet to slide several yards away. "I'll finish you off myself."

"You'll have to go through us first!" Sam appeared out of nowhere, followed by Dean and Bobby. All three converged to form a line separating Crowley from the downed angel. It appeared that their own enemies had all been beaten or sent running.

"You mess with Cas," Dean continued, aiming Sam's gun at the demon, "you mess with  _all_ of us. And we've ganked baddies bigger and tougher than you."

Despite the precarious nature of their current situation, Castiel felt the words seeping into his heart like a glowing balm. Regardless of anything—of  _everything_ —they'd been through, Sam and Dean still stood with him. Like… like a family. The one he'd always yearned for. It was enough to push the angel slowly to his feet.

"Then why haven't you used that gun?" Crowley asked Dean, obviously unimpressed with the show of loyalty. "You're all empty, aren't you?"

Dean's hesitation to answer said it all, and the smirk growing on Crowley's face clearly stated that he knew it, too. Not that it mattered; though Castiel was hesitant to use his wings more than necessary, he endured the burn long enough to flit from his current position to directly behind Crowley.

The demon spun, blade raised, but Castiel caught his wrist. His glare deepened.

"This is mine." His grip clenched down until Crowley's hand opened reflexively to release Castiel's weapon as the demon gasped in pain.

Castiel caught the blade and Crowley gulped.

"Bollocks."

Then he was gone in the blink of an eye. Castiel jolted, furious that the coward had run before he'd had time to kill him, but hardly surprised. It seemed Dean felt the same, as the hunter shouted,

" _Crowley_!"

"Looks like he hasn't changed much," Bobby grumbled, face twisting in displeasure. "Son of a bitch sure can't handle a fair fight."

Dean's attention shifted to the grizzled hunter as his anger fell away into concern. "Bobby," he gasped. "You alright? Did he… were you…"

"On a rack?" Bobby supplied for him with a wry snort. "Nah. Don't think he cared much about me either way. From what Sam's told me, sounds like I was just a way to get you here. And you fell right for it." He paused, then smiled. "Idjit."

"Like we would leave you here? Never," Dean growled. He reached out and grabbed Bobby, pulling him into a tight embrace. The slump of his shoulders as tension eked away and the softening of Bobby's face made the entire ordeal worth it.

"It's good to see ya, boy," the old hunter whispered. He pulled away, smiling at Dean, then Sam, then finally landing on Castiel. His expression sobered, then tightened into a glower. "Is that a  _collar_?"

Blood growing cold with renewed fury, Castiel reached for the metal ring around his neck and ripped it apart, dropping the pieces to the ground. "Yes," he said shortly, not elaborating.

"Crowley. When I get a hold of him…" Dean didn't finish the threat, but it didn't bode well for the demon. He shook his head, then demanded, "Cas?"

"I'm fine," the angel assured him, which was more or less true. A little bruised, a little singed, and a lot pissed off, but nothing he wouldn't recover from. "Thank you for the assistance, all of you."

"Of course, Cas," Sam murmured, eyeing the broken collar with revulsion. He hesitated, then added, "Meg's the one who came through. For all of us."

"Meg…" Brushing past the three hunters, Castiel hurried to Meg's side. He knelt down, asking gravely, "How badly are you hurt?"

Meg, who'd been silent until now, quirked a wry smile at him. "What,  _this_? I've had worse, Clarence. Don't worry about me."

"You came back for me," he whispered, touching her cheek. "You saved me… again. And I can't even heal you in return."

"You don't have to do anything in return, dumbass." Meg paused, then snorted. "Actually, there  _is_ something you can do. Next time I tell you something is probably a trap, don't go jumping into it without me there to keep you out of trouble, huh?"

A gentle smile spread across Castiel's face as he slid his hand on her cheek down to capture her chin instead, leaning in to seal a firm kiss over her lips. Meg froze in surprise, and he heard Bobby asking again what exactly he'd missed since being killed, but Castiel cared about none of this. Though he knew they needed to be leaving, he couldn't help but seize this moment. Meg wasn't pushing him away, leaning into the kiss, accepting it with an almost hungry delight.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat. "Um… Cas?"

Castiel pulled apart reluctantly, gratified by the stunned look on Meg's face as she stared at him. Right. Escaping. Castiel gave himself a shake, then gazed around with a frown.

"I- I don't think I can carry all four of you…"

"Meg, any chance there's a Gate close by?" Sam asked.

The demon nodded, trying to pull herself up farther but gasping in pain.

"No, don't move," Castiel immediately urged. "I can carry you-"

"Here, let me," Sam interrupted. He passed his knife off to Dean and hurried forward to carefully scoop Meg up in his arms, bridal style. "That way your hands are free if we meet any company."

Castiel nodded his gratitude, then grabbed both angel blades in a dual wield. His forehead pinched in a glower; any demons they did happen to come across would do well to flee immediately, before he spotted them. Gesturing for Dean and Bobby to join them, he turned to Meg.

"Point the way."


	7. Of Devil Horns and Unicorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sad to see this over so soon! Thanks to each and every one of you who's dropped me a line :) I love hearing from you guys! I hope everyone continues to enjoy this. 
> 
> One of the scenes from this chapter was inspired by that demon in the episode Road Trip: "Human Castiel? Eh. But feathered Castiel?" *fans self* Makes me wonder how he appears to a demon when he's feathered! ;)

The Gate Meg led them to wasn't far, and the group went unchallenged. Castiel almost wished Crowley would show his face, knowing the demon didn't stand a chance against him in a fair fight. On the other hand, he had people to protect. Better to get out of Hell as soon as possible and worry about Crowley later.

"It's just up ahead," Meg directed, still dwarfed by Sam's arms. She winced as she pointed. "See that column there?"

"Got it." Castiel took the lead, turning to keep an eagle eye on their backs as the rest of the group caught up.

Bobby cleared his throat. "So, uh… how does this work? I just step outta here and float off to the Pearly Gates?"

Nodding, Castiel passed one of the blades off to Dean so that he had a hand free. "I'll carry you out," he explained. "Once we reach Earth, your soul will ascend on its own. I'll keep an eye out to make sure no demons try to interfere."

"So… I guess this is good-bye," Dean said as he stepped forward to Bobby with a downcast expression. The hunter shook his head. "I wish…"

One side of Bobby's mouth curled up in a half-smile, and he nodded. "Yeah. Least I got to see you idjits one more time."

"And hey… good-bye isn't forever," Sam pointed out with a distinctly misty-eyed grin. "I mean, Ash figured out how to hop around personal heavens. We'll see you again, Bobby."

"You'd better." Bobby angled a look at the boys, before adding, "But not too soon, hear?"

"You bet," Dean agreed. He sniffled, letting Bobby pull him in for a quick hug.

Bobby patted his shoulder as he stepped back, then turned towards Castiel. The angel straightened, preparing to take hold of the old hunter so he could raise him from Hell, but Bobby spoke up first.

"And you, Feathers. Thanks."

Castiel blinked. "Meg and Sam were the ones who-"

"Yeah, I know. And… thanks for that, you two," he added, a little skeptical as he eyed Meg in Sam's arms, but as sincere as ever. "But that ain't what I'm talking about."

Cocking his head, Castiel gave Bobby a baffled look.

"Thanks for coming after me, and… for watching over these two. Never thought I'd see all three of my boys again, and I know I'll rest easier upstairs knowing you've got each other."

All… three…? Castiel continued to stare as the words sank in.  _Oh._ He'd never imagined… Bobby had always been so gruff… But then, he was gruff even with Sam and Dean, yet the angel knew how much he cared for them. Then…? Castiel's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. His throat closed up and he couldn't help but smile weakly.

Bobby just snorted. "Don't go getting weepy on me now."

"Of course." Castiel cleared his throat, then motioned for Dean to stand next to Sam. "You three go first. I'll bring Bobby."

With one more shared look, and many unspoken words, Dean and Sam turned and stepped through the Gate, taking Meg with them. Castiel took one last look over his shoulder to make sure no demons were lingering in hiding, then glanced at Bobby.

The hunter wasn't smiling now, expression serious as he murmured, "You alright, son? Looked like Crowley really did a number on you."

"I'm not hurt," Castiel replied. He paused, but who was Bobby going to tell? "It's… not the first time someone has been able to control me so completely."

Bobby raised a skeptical eyebrow and shrugged. "Not sure what happened before we showed up, but I do know if Crowley didn't have Dean, he couldn't have made you do squat. Whatever went on, I know it was just to protect Dean. Everything you ever did was. Even if we didn't always agree, I do know that."

Memories of all his mistakes flooded Castiel: working with Crowley, swallowing the Purgatory souls, horrible choices in the interest of protecting Sam and Dean. A task he hadn't even succeeded in. But Bobby's nod of affirmation was forgiveness and understanding, and only then did Castiel realize how much he had wanted exactly that. His eyes burned.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Uh-huh. So you gonna stand there all day, or get to raisin' me outta here?"

Castiel bit back a smile and then set a hand on Bobby's arm, and together they stepped through.

The end-

…

"Wait, no, that's not where it ends," Meg protested, lacing her fingers through Castiel's. "You're leaving out the best part."

…

"Where are we?" Sam asked Meg as the Winchesters stepped out of the Gate with her.

Meg glanced around; she had never used that particular exit, and it had been a while since Azazel had been in the picture enough for her to remember such things. "New Mexico, maybe?"

"Maybe?" Dean repeated with a glower. "Could you be a little more specific?"

"Do I look like Google maps?" she snapped back tetchily.

Sam shook his head. "It's fine, we'll figure it out."

Though Dean's tense shoulders didn't loosen, his eyes traveled over Meg, still held in Sam's arms. "How you doing, anyway?"

"Sweet of you to care." Actually, it kind of was. Relenting, Meg motioned for Sam to put her down. "Getting better. I can stand, anyway." Maybe. She was going to have to lay low for a while and finish healing up, though, maybe pass out for a bit if she could risk it. Meg hadn't dared close her eyes in a long time, constantly on the run in pursuit of Crowley's demons or being pursued by them.

"Sammy?" Dean asked next, turning to his brother with the same constipated look Meg was coming to associate with the hunter. "What about you? I thought we agreed you were gonna stay out of Hell."

Raising his eyebrows, Sam shot back, "I thought we agreed  _you_ were just gonna grab Bobby and come right back."

"Touché," Dean muttered. "I'm fine, though. Cas is the one that Crowley…" He trailed off, looking away and clenching both jaw and fists.

Meg understood the anger, especially because—knowing Crowley—Dean had been the means to gain Castiel's cooperation. There was no way the King of Hell could have ever gotten him to do what the demons had been saying, otherwise. No wonder Dean was furious. And speaking of Cas, what was taking so long?

The Gate thrummed as though in response to her question. Meg felt a thrill of relief as Castiel emerged, carrying the brilliant, white light of Bobby Singer's soul. All eyes turned to the angel, who lifted his hand without a word to release the glowing stream. No one moved or spoke as the soul twisted and twirled upwards, heading for Heaven at last.

Dean took a deep breath, then murmured in the silence, "So long, Bobby."

Still, the moment lingered, until Dean finally shifted towards Cas.

"And  _you_ ," he growled, grabbing him by the lapels of his overcoat. "Why didn't you fight Crowley?" Dean's pitch rose with fear and anger, his fists clenching even harder as Castiel stared at him. "You didn't even try to stop him! Why didn't you fight back?"

Sam and Meg traded a look, but Cas only shook his head. "You know why."

" _Damn_ it, Cas…" Dean bowed his head, taking deep breaths as he continued to clutch the angel with clear emotion. Cas didn't move. Finally, Dean ground out, "You deserve better. Don't you  _ever_ let someone treat you like that. Not because of me. What if he had-" His voice broke. "Meg's right. We've taken you for granted. We left you. We- we  _hurt_ you, Cas. I know we did. I know we  _do_. So next time someone tries to use me against you, don't let them! Got it? Don't let them, Cas."

"Dean…"

"No! Don't you let anyone talk down to you, don't ever let someone treat you like their property. Not Crowley, not Heaven, not us."

"Dean's right," Sam interjected, voice soft and full of guilt. "You know, we're supposed to be a team. It's not us calling the shots and you doing whatever we say. But… lately-" He broke off and cast a swift look at Meg before amending, "Actually,  _always_ … we've been acting too much like it is. But we're gonna try harder to do things right. You deserve better than that, Cas. Especially from us."

Well. Wonders never ceased. Meg looked between the boys—contrite and emotional—and Cas, who seemed just perplexed by the sudden outburst. He clearly didn't know how to respond, but Meg's shrewd eyes detected the straightening of his shoulders, the lifting of his chin, and knew that he'd needed to hear exactly this.

Gruffly, the angel said, "I- well… of course." Then, after a pause, he added quieter, "Thank you. But you're my friends, my family. I can't promise not to protect you if you're threatened. You would do the same for each other."

"We'd do the same for  _you_ , Cas," Sam replied.

Castiel nodded, and a silence descended. Meg shifted, feeling exhaustion starting to overtake her aching body, and wanting nothing more than to wrap this up and find a place to hunker down.

"Glad we've settled that," she started, drawing Cas's eyes back to her.

"Meg, you're still wounded." He set two fingers to her forehead, almost reflexively, then paused as he realized his mistake.

Meg smirked. "You know that's not gonna work, Clarence."

"We need to get you somewhere safe so you can finish healing yourself, then. You need rest."

Dean cleared his throat and stepped forward, trading a quick look with Sam. "You, uh… I guess you could… you know, chill at the Bunker."

"Thanks, but don't worry about it," Meg brushed him off. "I'll grab a motel room."

Castiel nodded shortly. "Then I'm going with you."

Meg raised her eyebrows, too surprised to work out a protest. Behind Cas, she could see the two Winchesters trading another look, unreadable, but neither of them protested either. Well… she certainly wouldn't turn down Cas's company. Not to mention, with him there, she would feel safe enough to actually rest.

Shrugging her agreement, Meg turned to the two hunters standing by and stepped over to them. There was one last thing she needed to do. "Glad you're seeing the light and all," she said, "but like I told Sam… if you could see Cas, just for one second, the way I do? You'd never forget again."

Dean started to shoot a quizzical look at his brother, who was frowning in confusion, but Meg didn't give either of them a chance to ask what she meant. She would just show them for herself.

Her hands shot out, grabbing both the boys by their upper arms. Though they were warded against possession, she had no need to go that far. Their human eyes would have burned out of their sockets if they caught even a glimpse of Cas's true form on their own, but hers beheld him all the time, so it was through her eyes that she shoved the image into the Winchesters' minds.

They gasped in unison as they finally saw the angel Castiel truly was. His true form was indescribable, as Meg gazed at him along with the hunters. Castiel's entire body was awash with light—not just haloed by the rays, but containing that light from within so that his very skin seemed to glow. Physically, his vessel was shorter than both Winchesters, and yet his presence seemed to tower, dwarfing all three of them and radiating power so tangible that the air crackled and sparked unseen to human notice.

He was somber and perfect, every line on Jimmy Novak's face erased and smoothed by the ageless grace of an angel. With the imperfections gone, he was a little terrifying, something alien, something amazing. Meg could see both parts of Castiel at once; the bright, breathtaking blue of his physical eyes, but also the endless, burning pools of radiance that beamed from beneath.

But his  _wings_ …

The feathered appendages stretched out on either side, enormous and vast. They were black, touched by Hellfire and yet somehow still glowing like the rest of his body in a paradox that human eyes could have never comprehended. The dark light emitting from those incredible wings illuminated the streaks of grey and iridescent bands of green and blue of each individual feather. Singed edges still smoldered slightly from the latest stint in Hell, but the light wreath of smoke it created was diffused against the radiance of his skin and grace, only making him all the more intimidating and impossible.

He was incredible.

Dean cursed shakily as Meg let go, not daring to show them longer than a few seconds; even filtered through herself, it might damage them, to stare directly into the sun. She stepped back, watching the boys with satisfaction. Their slack-jawed stupefaction and awe was the most gratifying thing she'd seen all day.

"C-Cas?" Sam breathed, still staring even though feathered Castiel had receded back to normal in his sight. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but there were clearly no words.

Dean looked like he was torn between turning his head and being unable to. Meg understood. That was how angels had  _always_ been to the demons, the reason why early humans who had beheld these terrifying creatures were so afraid.

Now they had finally seen  _all_ of Cas, and maybe now they understood. Because there was Cas, and there was  _Castiel._  Cas—Clarence—was loyal, and clueless, and awkward, and fun to tease.

Castiel was dangerous.

And Meg loved a little danger.

The angel heaved a sigh now, rolling his eyes and shattering the awe-filled moment as he turned to Meg and chastised, "That was a risky stunt, Meg."

She shrugged. "They're fine, no harm done," she pointed out, though both Winchesters were still goggling at Cas with open mouths, visibly shaken. Good. They should be. They should be in awe every day, every  _moment_  of their lives that there was a freakin' angel living with them, who deserved their respect. And maybe now they understood the pure lunacy that they—little humans—had been giving orders to  _him_.

"Dean, Sam," Cas went on, looking a little pained, a little pleading. "I'm not… I'm still me. Please don't…"

Sam offered him a weak smile, exhaling in a soft laugh. "No, of course. Just,  _damn_ , Cas, I never… I mean, I always knew- you know, true forms… I mean,  _wow_ , I can't believe we got to see-" He couldn't even finish, beaming wider and wider, like a fangirl geeking out. "So  _that's_ what angels- I always imagined- wow!"

Meg bit back a smile, rather pleased with herself, and starting to wish she'd done this a long time ago.

Cas still seemed unsure, giving them a sidelong look, but he nodded. "I can take you back to the Bunker," he offered. "I believe we've emerged just outside of Los Lunas, New Mexico, so if you want-"

"No, n-no!" Dean quickly stammered. "No, Cas, you don't have to do that. We, um… we can take it from here. Besides, you've got more important things to worry about." He nodded towards Meg, who smirked.

 _Definitely_ should have done this a long time ago.

Cas frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Sam assured him. "We can drive. You don't have to- no, just take your time with Meg."

Dean paused, then clapped Cas on the back. "And we'll leave a light on at the Bunker," he finished. "For when you come home."

The smile that blossomed across Cas's face definitely made this whole stupid day worth it. Meg's work here was done. Castiel stepped away from the boys, taking Meg's hand with one final, grateful nod to his friends. Then they flew.

…

"Okay," Meg said. " _Now_ you can say 'the end'."

"The end," Castiel said dutifully, smiling as he let her final narrative sink in. He'd never heard her describe him before; the angel had to admit he was stunned by how she saw him. Of course there had been a time when the angels had been well aware of their domineering presence and used that to invoke fear in demons, but Castiel had given up such pride. He'd never considered that it might still be cause for awe.

On the other hand:

"I still think that was a dangerous trick to play on Sam and Dean," he told her regretfully.

Meg only snorted. "I wouldn't have done it if I thought your humans might actually get hurt," she assured him, which they both knew was probably stretching the truth a bit. "And it worked, didn't it?"

"Of course, if they could see any of the other angels' wings, they'd be substantially more impressed," Castiel pointed out. "Mine are so badly burned. I'm… not much of an angel."

"Wait… seriously?" Meg asked, tilting her head up to stare at him. "I've seen the others. Those pansy angels with their lily-white wings. Don't get me wrong, they can still smite a demon with the best of 'em, but they don't do anything for me. But yours?" Meg exhaled, then gave a low whistle. "Blackened. Badass. Every demon who looks at you and your wings  _know_."

Castiel cocked his head, frowning in question.

"It's written all over you, Castiel. Your wings say that you've been to Hell… and you won. And that?" Meg shook her head, staring at Castiel with eyes that burned with passion and earnestness. "Oh, honey. That's  _all_  kinds of hot."

That was certainly not what Castiel had been expecting, a new way of looking at things that he would have never considered. Though he'd never even for a second regretted his choice to rescue Dean and then Sam from Hell, he'd also written his wings off as a sacrifice to the cause, something that would thereafter be tainted and a source of scorn at worst and pity at best.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined the burned wings to be a symbol of power, an inspiration for awe.

How incredible it was, Castiel thought as he brushed his fingertips over one of Meg's wounds, that he had come here to help her heal and was instead being healed himself. The things Crowley had made him feel began to slip away, his inadequacy and powerlessness replaced by the strength that Meg elicited in his heart.

Meg yawned. "Tell me another story," she murmured, eyes falling closed as she leaned into Castiel's chest.

The angel felt her breathing start to even out into a restful cadence. He gazed down at her, a smile spreading across his face. "Once upon a time," he began obligingly, voice soft in its gravelly rumble, "a demon loved an angel."

"You're talking about me."

Her voice was barely audible, and then her body fell slack in slumber at last. Castiel didn't ease away from her, but continued to hold the thorny beauty in his protecting arms. He would stay until she woke, refreshed and healed. Leaning back against the headboard, Castiel sighed with content and continued the story, though she was fast asleep.

"And the angel saw what she was, and loved her in return. Everything else was details. The end."


End file.
